Panther Blues
by NekoBun
Summary: Sumono Kobayashi carries herself with a chip on her shoulder, living as an unhappy misfit. She didn't expect to become a superhero... And as she documents her life as a Mew, can she determine whether it's all for better, or for worse?
1. Fight

**Panther Blues**

-waves- Hi everyone, my name is Neko Bun! This is my first TMM fiction! Ha ha!

The beginning of it may drag along a little, and you may wonder when the plot is going to get tied into the Mew Mews, but I promise it'll intersect soon! Just be patient for a little bit, and while you wait, enjoy Sumono's story. It's impossible for me to tell a short story, so it might get sort of lengthy. I hope you like it! Please read and review!

**Disclaimer!  
**Sumono: Well, what are you waiting for?  
Me: Huh?  
Sumono: Say it.  
Me: But --  
Sumono: SAY IT!  
Me: ..Okay, fine… I don't own Tokyo Mew Mew…  
Sumono: Exactly. She only owns me.  
Me: -groan-

"_The only obstacles in life are the ones you give yourself."  
_-Anonymous

**Chapter One!**

Hi, my name is Kobayashi Sumono, and just recently, my life got really messed up. I mean, _really _messed up. Even more so than it had already been. I'm recounting the days and trying to understand exactly how all of this happened to someone like me.

...I mean, I'm normal. I live in a normal, tiny apartment with a normal, tiny kitchen and living room. I look just like everyone else on the outside, with the exception of their ridiculously expensive brand-name clothing (ha ha, as if I could afford that stuff). I have normal dark hair and dark eyes, just like most Japanese people. I speak like them. I eat what they eat. My studies and friends are pretty typical for someone my age. So how did this happen? I'm trying to remember the feelings, the locations, the reasons for these weird abnormalities.

Well, you know what? It's all the doing of Takamine Kichiro. All of this is his fault. I'm serious. If it weren't for that slimy, devious freak of nature, I would still be perfectly human. I wouldn't have agreed to go eat lunch at some overly-pink-i-fied little restaurant and get my DNA all screwed up. I wouldn't even have to be here, trying to share it with the whole world, if it weren't for Kichiro.

Confused? I guess I'll start with school.

School isn't the best place on earth. The students misbehave, and a lot of them skip class to go smoke on the street and pick fights. A lot of them have really bad grades. I won't say it's because they're stupid, because I'm actually pretty sure they're really smart. It's just that they're just your typical unmotivated teens. They've got better stuff to do, like watching TV and having what they believe to be ravishing social lives. I don't really like all of this, personally. I'm definately no goody-goody, but I'm not entirely sure I can really accept the fact that the Japanese youth are aimless and disrespectful. So, yeah. School isn't the best place on earth. Of course, I would prefer to avoid it at all costs, but I also want a future. I've seen what happens when kids don't apply themselves. A perfect example is probably sitting in my living room right now, drinking beer, smoking, watching TV, neglecting all responsibilities, and yet still calling himself my dad. Personally, I would rather not become that. School is important. That's why I go.

Anyway, I arrived at school early one morning, and went to my shoe locker, where I was greeted by my friend, Ota Namiko. "Sumono-chan!" she called, apparently really chipper for so early in the morning (personally, I find it impossible to be happy at such hours). She ran up to me and joined me by my side as I started to walk away from my locker.

"Ohayo," I responded droopily, and yawned. Namiko laughed, and then instantly started to indulge me in "this really awesome soap opera she saw last night", sharing every specific detail and quote, talking very quickly like this was the most amazing thing that ever happened to her. She jabbered away while I nodded and grunted absent-mindedly all the way down the hall, and all the way to class, where we sat side-by-side as we waited for our sensei to arrive. Namiko's voice eventually subsided to a dull roar in my brain, sort of like a fly buzzing by my ear. I continued to nod and grunt, but truthfully, I wasn't catching a word of it. Slowly, the classroom began to fill, and I pulled out my notebook and started to doodle on it.

The chair of the desk parallel to mine creaked, and I turned my gaze to see who was sitting there. Next to me was Takamine Kichiro, who was talking to his faithful posse of mindless freaks. He's one of the guys I was talking about - the aimless and disrespectful kind, the type who skips his classes periodically to have a smoke, and do a few other things I've decided to refrain from writing here. Personally, I find him completely worthless, but the rest of the girls love him. He's incredibly popular, which makes sense, because he's so good-looking. Despite his inflated ego and personality disorder, he has about three fan clubs, and a gigantic battalion of admirers.

"…And that's when Kimi came out in this totally cute pink little … Hey, Sumono, are you even listening to me?"

Yeah, so he had a bunch of admirers, but they did _not_ include me - not over my dead body. This guy was probably the last person I'd ever come to even accept. He pretended like he had all of these problems, like being unfortunate and having a sucky life, mainly to get attention. I scoffed at that. How could he possibly know what a miserable life was like? His mother and father probably waited on his hand and foot, the little spoiled brat. How could he even try to pretend he knew what it was like to have an unstable home life? To have to nurse your own fat, delirious dad and do his laundry for him? Kichiro disgusted me.

Namiko poked my arm.

"Hello? Sumomo?"

She paused for a moment, then lowered her voice as it started to sound bubbly and excited. "Oh, my God. Kichiro-chan is sitting next to you…" I didn't really want to respond, because that was the very fact I was loathing most at the moment. "Are you staring at him?" she whispered. I turned to look at her, and gave her an expression of defiance. "Nope. I'm _glaring_. There is an insane difference." Namiko furrowed her brow. "I don't understand why you hate him so much. What did he do to you?" Oh. Did I mention my best friend is part of that battalion of admirers? Yeah, I'll stick that here.

"He didn't do anything to me."

"Then why the immense and unjust hatred?"

Unjust? _Excuse_ me?

"He's a fricking brat," I hissed angrily, "And he's full of himself."

Namiko looked at me with big, wounded eyes. Apparently, she didn't think so. I had struck a very sensitive chord within her, and it had definitely been the wrong thing to say. I had insulted her great love and idol, hadn't I? She frowned at me, looking incredibly hurt and let down.

"Well, _I_ think he's _amazing_."

I could only chuckle to that. "Of course you do. You wouldn't know any better," I said, getting a little miffed as well. She gasped. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she demanded. I shrugged.

"I mean what I say."

"Don't you think you're being awfully rude?"

"Not really."

Namiko let out a frustrated little huff, gave me one last, glassy-eyed look, and turned away, standing up to move desks. My mouth fell open. "Oh, come on! Don't be so touchy!" I called, but she didn't even look at me. She picked up her book bag and walked to the other side of the room, face downcast. Immediately, I started to feel a little guilty, and I sighed.

Beside me, Kichiro had stopped talking with his posse, so it was quiet as he eyed me for a moment. He laughed in this weird way, and went, "Catfight?" to me. His friends chortled and ho-hoed rather cruelly behind him.

I decided to engage my hands to make a rather obscene gesture in their relative direction, wishing I had the ability to pound their faces in at school. It wasn't a very wise thing to do, though, because he and his group instantly went on the defensive, all stood up, and crowded in a circle around my desk. Great.

"You know, you aren't a very nice girl, Kobayashi," Kichiro said. "You must be a really awful friend, too." There was a hint of teasing in his voice, which triggered an intense wave of anger to pulse through my veins. I _hated _it when people teased me, but I remained silent for the time being. He leaned an elbow on my desk and said stared me right in the face with a pair of deep, dark eyes.

I will take this moment to point out how incredibly difficult it is to look the person you hate in the eye when you're pissed. Well, yeah. It's _really_ hard. Your face gets all hot, your fists clench and you get the sudden impulse to lash out and break something (preferably, the person's nose). That's pretty much how I felt at the time. My train of thought disappeared, and I did my best to offer a venomous glare from my own two eyes. "Shove off," I muttered.

Of course, he didn't budge. He was way too proud to listen to anyone, let alone an angry girl sitting at her desk, alone. "How disrespectful," Kichiro declared, and his posse grunted and nodded maliciously. "You really shouldn't speak that way to your superiors."

You know, there's only so much a girl like me - a girl with slight anger management problems - can take. Someone like me hates being labeled as an inferior. Someone like me really, really despises it. It's not like I don't already know that I'm not as rich and cool as everyone else… it's just that I hate being reminded.

My blood pulsed hard through my veins, my heart pounding furiously in my ears. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to get up and box his lights out. How dare he? How dare he say that?

"Shut your damn trap, Takamine."

He flashed a grin. It was the type of smile that was utterly adorable and completely despicable all at once. It only made me even more angry. With his single expression, he was mocking me. I knew it.

"You're quite bitchy this morning, aren't you?"

His eyes were pouring out hurtful, malicious messages with one ego-inflated glance. His smile was unnervingly coy. I hated that guy. I hated that flawless face. My face turned boiling hot. I lurched to my feet, unable to control myself, and before it even registered, I sent a flying bunch right at his jaw.

-

I know what you're thinking. You think I'm a dirty, sexy, fight-picking Yankee chick, and I totally beat the lights out of Kichiro, and the entire classroom cheered me on, and I went home proud and victorious without a single red mark on my school behavioral record because our class's sensei totally despises the bastard, just like me.

Well, get ready for a disappointment, folks.

-

What happened next was Kichiro looked at me with these really big, infuriated eyes. "What the hell is wrong with you, you bitch?" he yelped, his posse erupting in an outroar.

He reached out, grabbed the hair right next to my scalp and pulled so hard that my head went flying down in this lovely cascade towards my desk, smashing it really hard, sending my vision out of whack, everything fading out into whiteness, my breath jagging like daggers in my chest, and then an incredibly immense, pounding pain on the side of my skull above my temple. Then came the warm, sticky feeling of blood dripping slightly from my scalp.

I slowly slid off the desk, feeling my knees buckle as I met the cold floor. My shoulders began to shake. For a moment, I felt like crying. The pain was horrid, but worse was the emotion. The emotion of being lower than someone like _him_. The emotion of being trampled on. The emotion of resent; sweet, fresh resent, anger and blinding pain. I was dying. I was _dying_. My breath shuddered out of my shaken frame. Everything faded to black.

Something in the back of my mind started to talk to me.

_What the hell?_ It cried out, observing my current state. _What in the name of God is going on?_

_I'm dying,_ I informed the voice forlornly.

_What? You can't die, you moron. It's only chapter one. _

_Yeah, but he smashed my head in, _I said.

_It was only a desk, _the voice argued, _And you still have _loads_ to complain about later in the story._

_Oh, _I thought hopefully, _really? _

_Well, sure! Plus, you aren't going to die on a classroom floor, are you? _the voice demanded.

I agreed. _Yeah, you're right… that would be really dumb…_

That's when all of the morning light started to wash over me, bleeding through my eyelids, waking me from my fatal thoughts. I opened my eyes and looked up at my nemesis, and despite the dizzying pain overtaking my head, I stood up slowly, turning to face him. He looked at me, scrutinizing. It was like he thought I was a gnat - I just wouldn't die, no matter how many times I was hit. Well, that was good for me. Other than being a gnat, I mean.

I glared into his eyes, diverting all of my hatred for him through my pupils, refusing the choice of letting myself feel beat up by him. There was no way in hell I could let someone like this get the better of me. I noticed the entire classroom had fallen silent. I was pretty sure it was because they were all waiting to see what was going to happen next, anticipating my next move.

So, I mustered up my energy enough to land my fist in the pit of his stomach. I admit that his abnormally toned abs threw off the force of it, but at least I had gotten to him. A fresh stream of adrenaline started to flow freely through my bloodstream, and I prepared for his rebound, for his fists to go flying at me.

Only, that didn't happen. He went, "_Ouch_!" really loud, and staggered backwards. For a moment, I was a little confused. I wasn't really expecting it to really hurt him that much. I blinked, feeling the flicker of an easy victory. …And suddenly, I realized why the room was so quiet. I realized why he had cried out in pain. It was fake pain. Because there in the doorway stood our sensei, staring at me with horrified and upset eyes.

---

Yay! Cliffie! Well, Sort of... R and R, pretty please!  
-NekoBun


	2. Lunch

**Panther Blues**

Hey, here comes the second chappie! Blatahh! I apologize for the slow start, and also for the cliche idea of making an OC. _Another_ OC, in fact, because this isn't my first. ... -sigh- When will the madness end? Well, anyway, here we go with Sumono's story!

_"You're only born with a little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it."_

-Robin Williams

**Chapter Two!**

No, I didn't get detention. Or a phone call to my father. Not even that.

I got _sent home_.

_For two days_.

I mean, how retarded is that? Okuda-sensei took one look at me and barked, "Go home, Kobayashi." Just like that. I mean, this isn't the first time this has happened. I've been in a lot of fights at school, to be perfectly frank. But it's never resulted in suspension. That's just _gay_.

It was really aggravating, as well. I mean, it wasn't even my fault! That wimpy asshole pretended to be all hurt, and then I didn't even get a chance to explain my side of the story to Okuda-sensei! Why did _I_ have to be sent home, when Kichiro was the one to slam my head into a desk and cause my scalp to start bleeding? Did our sensei not even notice that? And okay, sure, I was the one who busted his jaw in the first place, but it was only because he was tormenting me! Okuda-sensei had given me a heavy, angry talking to afterwards. He looked me straight over and scolded me for my perpetual misbehavior, not letting me get a single word in. I was forced to look down and act all ashamed and sorry for what I had done. But seriously. I'm _glad_ I did it. That guy had completely deserved it.

I felt sort of relieved. Two whole days free from the annoying redundancy of school life! Two whole days to chill and be irresponsible! Yup, I was granted freedom, but only for unjust reasons… But I'm a justifying person at heart, really, I am.

As I walked home, I huffed and grumbled and kicked up random objects lying on the street, fully pissed at Takamine Kichiro. I was also a little angry with Namiko, but at the same time, I felt guilty. It wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been rude to her. I cursed myself and my damned temper, knowing that every time I opened my mouth, I would resent it later. Why did that never occur to me while I was pissed off?

While groaning and kicking random objects, my cell phone rang. I fumbled around in my bag, swearing, looking for the tiny modern device until my fingers came across its cool surface. I hoped for a minute that it wasn't my dad, who possibly had received a call from my school. I answered it in a rather unreasonable manner, but at the moment, I could care less.

"M…Moshi moshi?"

"Sumono-chan! Are you okay?"

Namiko's bell-like voice rang heavenly omens in my ears.

"Oh my God! Namiko-chan, I am so sorry! I can't believe I did that to him…It was so mean! I don't know what came over me!"

Yeah, I know. I'm a damned liar. But hey, I was saving a friendship, right? Wasn't that worth it? Namiko responded:

"No, it's totally okay, Sumono. I should have helped you out, and I feel really bad about it."

This grinded the guilt in a little further, but I tried my best to ignore it. I put on a happy voice.

"Don't worry about it, girlfriend. I can handle myself!"

"Yeah, but I still can't help but feel worried. When you fell on the floor, I… I thought you were _dying_!"

I couldn't really find a way to respond to that, so Namiko kept talking.

"I just can't believe he did that to you! What a bastard. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

"What the hell makes you say that?"

This, of course, wasn't brewed from real emotions, either. I have to admit that it's really hard to share my true feelings with Namiko a lot of the time. If she knew exactly what I was thinking, she'd flee from me like a frightened woodland creature.

"Oh, forget it. Listen, I'm skipping the rest of school today."

I blinked. It was a very un-Namiko-like thing for her to do. I frowned, and asked her why.

"Well, because I think you'd want some company. Besides, kids do it all the time. It's no big deal. "

This was a very kind gesture. "Namiko-chan," I squeaked, grinning, "however can I make it up to you? Seriously. Anything you want." It was the least I could do.

The other end was silent for a moment. I could tell she was deciding whether or not to accept my offer. Then, she said, "Would you take me to lunch?" I laughed. "Is that all? Sure! Your choice!" Okay, so I didn't have a penny on me, and I shouldn't have been encouraging her to skip school, but what the hell did it matter? I was practically on probation, anyway.

Namiko was instantly thrilled. I could hear it in her ever-cheery voice. "Oh, thank you so much!"

"Where do you want to go, then?"

"Hmm, let me think. Umm…"

She thought for a couple seconds, and then said, "I heard of this one place that's supposed to be really good, and it's nearby. Café Mew Mew, if I'm not mistaken." I shuddered at the mention of the sugary, cute name of this newly mentioned café. I almost said, "Heck, no!" but caught myself before I could damage our terms further. "I've never heard of it. Why don't we give it a try?" I suggested in my fakely happy tone.

"Yay! I'll meet you at the corner of South Avenue in about forty minutes, okay?"

After I hung up, I made a mad dash home, bursting in through the front door, speeding past my father at full blast (I don't think he even realized I was there) , flinging on some normal street clothing and searching the house fervently for a decent amount of change. After I had acquired my needs, I went crashing from the house just as quickly as I had come. What can I say? I'm a fast runner.

I made it to South Avenue just in time. Namiko was standing there, changed as well, holding a piece of paper which I presumed was directions to the café. "Don't you think it's a little early for lunch?" I asked her. She shrugged. "Let's go!"

She led me up and down a couple streets, around a few corners, until we passed the Tokyo natural science museum, and walked along these sidewalks that snaked behind it and up a hill with a bunch of trees. There, just before us, stood the most disgusting thing I'd ever seen in my entire life. It was towering, pink, and covered in hearts, like some huge colossus of sugar-coated fairies and valentines and bubbles… The huge pink castle glowered menacingly down on us, a sure symbol of my impending doom.

Apparently, Namiko wasn't catching these vibes. Not at all, because she let out this delighted, high-pitched squeak, clapped her hands together, and exclaimed, "Oh, Sumono-chan, it's sooooo cute! Don't you think so?" Little by little, I gathered my sanity and mustered up a fresh smile. "Yeah. Let's go in."

I will now take this moment to say that this was a very bad decision. This point in the story is a solid climax. It pains me to type what follows.

This was not my type of place, as you can tell. First off, I'm not into pink. Or hearts. Or even little bubbly cafés. So when I walked in there and saw how equally pink and heart-shaped it was in the inside as it was on the outside (or possibly more so than), I wasn't nearly as thrilled as my companion. I really couldn't get my brain around the meaning of all this. The person who approached us next sort of didn't improve my feelings much. I'm telling you. _The waitresses are cuter than the café is._

She was a girl in pink and red from head to toe - she even had red hair - like a gigantic walking valentine. She greeted up with a huge smile and said, "Welcome to the café!" I smiled back weakly and said, "Party of two, please." She obliged cheerfully and led us to a little pink, red and white booth with little heart-shaped seats and everything. "We'll have a server right with you!" she informed us, and left. I did my best not to sneer at her.

"Oh my God, Sumono, is this not the most cute place you've ever seen? I love it!"

I swallowed. "Yeah, it's really… great…"

Momentarily, another waitress walked up to us. She was tall, all dressed in purple, and strikingly beautiful, with raven hair spilling down her back. She didn't really smile at us, to my gratefulness, but she was pleasant enough, even though she was sort of abrupt. Namiko ordered some kind of western-style sandwich, and I asked for apple pie and some tea. We waited around for our food.

"I'm actually sort of glad that I get two days off from school," I said, stretching. Namiko smiled, but somehow she looked half-hearted. "I mean," I said, "I don't like what I did. It's just a little refreshing, is all." She didn't respond. She just started to screw around with her napkin in silence. I had said something wrong again, so I ventured around to see what it was.

"I'll miss you, though."

Nothing.

"I'll probably be bored, too."

"Oh, come on, Sumono. That's bullshit."

I blinked.

"What?"

"You know you're lying. Every time you get some spare time, you go out and party and have the time of your life."

"Not necessarily. I have to take care of my dad."

"Nobody has to take care of your dad but himself, Sumono. Quit using him as some kind of excuse for all of your problems."

She was so wrong. I swear it. I wasn't using my dad as an excuse. I really _did_ have to take care of him. I had to make his meals, I had to buy the groceries for him, I had to do his laundry and give him my spare change. Otherwise, he would just sit there by the TV, drinking away his liver and starving to death in the same pair of jeans every day. If I didn't take care of him, he would die. And then I would be cursed with everlasting guilt. Not like I could really explain this to Namiko without her interrupting me. So I just sighed and told her I had to use the bathroom. Which I did, actually. Really bad. I got up.

I scanned the little pink area for the restrooms, and when I found them, I headed for them at a rather fast pace. Right next to the restrooms were to doors to the kitchen, which, right as I was reaching the ladies room, flew open, and a guy who would be described as "Aryan" went flying through them at about the same speed as I was going, and.. Yeah. We crashed right into each other. I went drifting backwards into this little statue thing sitting on a podium. It went flying into the air, and just as I hit the floor, I reached out and caught it in my hands so that it wouldn't get smashed. The thing was a little glass sculpture carved to make the shape of a wildcat-looking thing. It was probably a panther. Suddenly, it grew really hot in my hands, and started to glow.

-

All of the pinkness around me faded away. The atmosphere became an eerie black, and I found myself floating in midair, suspended by some invisible force. I was stark naked, I noticed, which was a little weird, but I wasn't cold. Off in the distance I could see a little dancing light. It was getting bigger and bigger as it headed towards me. The dancing drops of light took the form of a running animal. It was a black panther, just like the sculpture, and it was bounding straight at me.

I wanted to move out of the way. To run from it. I mean, there was a big predatory animal from some alternate universe getting ready to pounce on me. The thing was going to _eat_me. But I couldn't move. I was just floating there, in the middle of space, unable to shift my body in any way. I was just waiting, like fish bait.

The panther was only about a yard away. I could see its flickering, pale blue eyes flash like two bright moons at it gazed at me. The majesty of its dark, muscular body in movement was enthralling. It was truly a beautiful animal, I noted. Oh well. At least this was a cool way to die, unlike passing out on a classroom floor. I would be forever known as "the girl who was devoured by a panther" to the rest of the world. Sweet. The thing hunched its back, and leapt towards my middle, letting out a deep growl. I prepared myself for searing pain and trashing claws, for my little, normal life to come crashing to an end. I closed my eyes.

I was delighted to suddenly realize that death wasn't painful. It wasn't painful at all. It actually felt really _good_. Perhaps I was in heaven. My middle turned warm and tingly, and I opened my eyes. Alas, around me was the same blackness, and I was still floating. The panther was gone, nowhere in sight. But I knew it hadn't avoided me. I had seen it jump right at me.

Right _into _me, I suddenly realized. I could feel it. There was something else there, some different presence that was radiating through my limbs. Something was changing. I didn't particularly mind, either, since it felt so nice. I curled up into a little ball, drifting off into the black space.

-

Suddenly, I was back on the cold, hard floor, panther statue still in hand. The noise from the café cut through the once-was silence of the strange dark abyss I had been floating in just moments ago. I blinked confusedly, trying to focus my vision. Above my stood the blonde guy, bent over and extending his hand. I looked at him for a moment. It was like not even a moment had passed. I took his hand, and he pulled me up. "I'm sorry about that. I guess I was walking faster than I thought I was," he said. I was still blinking confusedly, like an idiot, trying to figure out what had just happened.

I handed the panther statue to the Aryan. "Y… yeah, sorry…" I mumbled, and drifted into the ladies room, where I relieved myself and then washed my face about five times, staring myself in the mirror aggressively. I looked the same. Just the same old Sumono, with medium-length dark hair and big dark eyes, and the same old frustrated scowl. I shook my head around, telling myself I had just hallucinated. It was lack of sleep. That was all. Nothing to dwell on.

I headed back to our table, where Namiko sat, arms crossed. She looked stern. I then remembered our little disagreement, and I offered her a little smile, trying to make the atmosphere a little more pleasant. She returned the sad little gesture, and I sat, noticing that our food had come. I stared at my apple pie hungrily.

"What took you so long? Were you constipated, or something?"

"Yeah, Namiko. I was _really_ backed up."

Namiko made a face, then laughed, and we finished out our early lunch in relative peace. I had forgotten all about the fight with Kichiro. Somehow, it all seemed a million miles away.

---

End of chapter two! Whee! Please R and R.

-NekoBun


	3. Mark

**Panther Blues**

Thank you so much, Butter fingers! It means a lot, really. -Sigh- only one review, but I shall continue on! I came here to write, and to write alone!

This is a_ very _short chapter...

"_To achieve the impossible dream, try going to sleep."_

-Joan Klempner

**Chapter Three!**

I came home a little late that day after Namiko and I spent a lot of time with each other, doing fun stuff. I arrived at my small apartment space, which is on the fourth floor of the complex.

The first thing you need to know about my home is that it _isn't_ my home. It's just an apartment, in which I have happened to be dwelling for my entire lifetime, with the exception of the hospital baby incubators for a little while. Not that I really like to think of my birth, because then I think of my mother, which leads me to think of the multiple reasons why my father is probably going t die of liver cancer someday. So, yeah. Even though I live here, it's not my home. I haven't really found my true place on Earth yet.

The apartment, needless to say, is little, cramped and dirty. It smells really terrible (mostly cigarette smoke), and it isn't the nicest place to relax in. The main reasons for all of these negativities is because this is where my dad hangs out all day. He lives off a pension, but sometimes when he needs extra cash he'll go out and work some minimum-wage-ish type of job for a little while. Right now, he's a window washer, although it doesn't really show through his conduct.

As I entered, I expected him to be angry with me. He had probably received a phone call from my school, telling him that I was suspended for two days because I had gotten into a fist fight (a short one, but even so…), and he was more than likely going to engage me in many rantings and ravings about how I should think before I act, and how I'm pathetic and disgraceful, and why am I so weird for a girl? and he doesn't need me around, why don't I go lay the burden of my existence on some other poor, unfortunate soul?

Sometimes I couldn't even stay there over night. There were times when my father drank to the point to when he becomes dangerous. He gets mad and he doesn't think straight, and he's break things and shouts. He doesn't like anyone or anything to get in his way, and those who don't merely get ordered about (punishment for denying orders his physical harm). So, naturally, I really can't be around him. It's not exactly safe. I usually go down to the park on warmer nights and crash on a bench. I know that sounds all hideous and tragic, and I'm being abused, and all this blah-blah crap, but it's not really as bad as it sounds. It's just one of those things I have yet to sort out.

I walked trough the foyer and into the kitchen, where my father sat, a heavy shadow by the table. His dim eyes were hidden under deep folds of skin, the life and light sucked from his complexion by probably one of the only things that will stay by his side for the majority of his life: his alcohol. There was a bottle of beer in his right hand, a cigarette in his left. A newspaper lay spread out on the table, but it didn't really look like he was reading it. He was glaring at me with drunken, pink eyes. His face showed no true interest in his following question:

"Where the hell have you been?"

Yup, this is my father, everyone. That fat old creep sucking death through a glass bottle and a thin paper stick is one-half responsible for my existence. It's a little frightening if you think about it.

"Is that a question of concern, or another way to say, 'I'm hungry, give me dinner'?"

I'm serious when I say he actually took this question into consideration. He sat there for a millisecond with the most idiotic confused expression ever made by man, and then said, "I've had to wait out supper 'cause of you." See what I mean? Of course he didn't want to know where I had been, and why. He probably didn't even know about what had happened at school today. "Aren't you capable of making yourself a snack, Dad?" I questioned him sternly.

My father blinked confusedly. "It's your job to make dinner, remember? You take care of food and cleaning, I take care of your tuition." I presumed by "taking care of", he meant, "neglecting and putting aside". Of course, I couldn't say that to his face. I just frowned and got to work on making him some food. Afterwards, I got to work on ironing the laundry. The ironing board was in front of our one little TV set, which I turned on to watch the news. I wanted to get my mind off the weird little café, the panther hallucination and the blonde guy.

On the TV flashed colorful updates of Japan's best-known superheroes, "Tokyo Mew Mew". I had only seen them on the news, of course, but I sort of had an idea of what they looked like, and how they acted. They were a bunch of cute little girls going around and fighting off the sources of evil trying to terrorize our city. They looked like a bunch of flying cosplayers, with one exception: instead of little faux animal tails and ears, their animalistic features were actually real and fully functional. These animals, apparently, were combined in their DNA, giving them superpowers.

I didn't really like Tokyo Mew Mew. I mean, sure I appreciated it if they saved the planet a couple times, but why did they have to dress up all colorfully and be all cute and admirable while they did? Couldn't they save the earth without prancing about in small outfits? It was mildly disturbing to me.

Eventually, I finished ironing, and I switched off the TV. I noticed it was getting late, so I went to the kitchen and cleaned up after my father, and then headed down the hall to take a shower. When I was in the bathroom, I stripped myself of my clothes, mulling over the day's events, sighing. I got a load of myself in the mirror: slender, pale, and tired-looking. I was just the same old me as before.

Then I saw it. At first I thought it was a smudge of dirt, so I tried to wipe it away, but when it didn't come off, I looked more closely. On my hip was a little black mark, sort of like a tattoo, in the shape of a cat's paw print with a little circle around it. I stared at it, a little confused, not remembering any time when I had acquired such a mark. It was dainty and sort of pretty-looking, though, so it wasn't something I could really dislike. I studied it for a moment longer, and after a couple moments of contemplation, something hit me in the head like a lead weight: Could this have anything to do with the whole panther incident? Big cats had paws that made prints similar to the one in my mark, didn't they? Was it possible that I had actually gone to that place of darkness, and a panther jumped into me?

I watched my very own eyes bulge right out of my head at the thought. I gave the small mark one last look before I disappeared behind the shower curtain, enveloping myself in the relaxing hot steam pouring from the nozzle. Too much to think about...

---

I think this might be one of the shortest chapters in the story. Ha ha! Please R and R.

-Nekobun


	4. Wallet

**Panther Blues**

-waves again- Hey, guys! This is chapter four, whether you want it or not! THANK YOU FOR THE REVIWES! Ha ha ha! Despite my so-far slight lack of popularity, I'm still writing. I can't help it! I'm having so much fun! Here we go with Sumono's story!

"_Even if I'm painted blue, I have no hair, my feet are gone, my arms don't work, everyone hates me, I hate myself, my clothes are all wrong, and my grades suck... well... I'm still me."  
_-Myfriend Pierce

**Chapter Four!**

The melody of an all-too-familiar jingle-jangle poured into my senses, quaking my eardrums, waking me in my near-dead state of being. I limply lifted my head from my pillow, squinting in the sunlight that was intruding through a crack in my curtains. The sound of my cell phone resonated from my pocketbook, which was located under a heap of clothing across my room.

I literally rolled out of bead and crashed onto the floor, then stood and stumbled, much like an intoxicated zombie, to retrieve my phone. I answered in a drowsy voice.

"Moshi… moshi…"

"Hello, is this a Miss Kobayashi Sumono-san?"

I rubbed my spinning head, squinting again. Somehow, the young, smooth male voice on the other end sounded vaguely familiar. It was actually kind of nice, waking up to this nice voice, which was quite unlike the usual gravelly, blubbering voice of my father. I plopped down on my bed.

"Um… Yeah…"

"Good. My name is Shirogane Ryou."

The name didn't sound familiar, but I knew I had heard his voice somewhere. Was he someone from school? Holy crap! Was he asking me out, or something? I struggled to keep my voice at a normal tone.

"Oh. Do I, uh, know you?"

"I work at Café Mew Mew."

Café Mew Mew? How the heck did he get my cell phone number? Had Namiko told him? Was he a marketer trying to sell me something from the café?

"Um. Okay. Do you need something?"

"Well, yes, I do--"

"If you're trying to sell me something, I'm not interested."

A soft, enchanting laugh filled up the other end, resonating like a bell-like echo. I swayed for a brief moment at the sound.

"That's not the case. I'm afraid you left your wallet here yesterday, and I was wondering if you would like to come back and retrieve it some time."

To the sound of his amused voice, the sudden news of my idiocy washed over me, and I instantly became embarrassed. I had left my name and phone number in my wallet in case it was ever found by someone who cared for my sake, I now remembered. I tried to recount all of the important things inside that little leather thing, beside money. My student ID, my various coupons, embarrassing notes I'd been passed during school, and much more…I flushed and bit my lip.

"Oh! Um! Of course I would, thank you so much for calling!"

"That's a good girl. I'll see you sometime today, then?"

"O-of course!"

I was met by the sound of the dial tone on the other end. Completely flustered, I hung up, and shook my head around. _That's a good girl_. I blushed absentmindedly, and then I curled up on my bed, stretching my back this way and that until I felt comfortable. I noticed an unwanted scent coming from my skin, and then instinctively, I began to lick my arm up and down.

It took a moment to register.

Why the hell was I _licking_ my _arm_? "Augh, what am I _doing_?" I demanded of myself, a little startled at my own behavior. I wiped myself off on my blankets, and then toppled off my bed in a rumbling thump. I stood woozily, and then turned to check the time on the clock that was hanging on my wall. I nearly fell back over onto my bed when I saw that is was nearly 1:30 pm. I hadn't wanted to sleep in this late! I let out a petrified yelp and started to run around my bedroom, completely freaked, picking up random articles of clothing to wear. I ran to my mirror after I was dressed to make sure everything was in check.

(NekoBun: wait for it… wait for it…)

I screamed, completely freaked, and nearly fell over backwards. Protruding overtop the layers of my messy bed head were two black, sleek and round little animal ears. From the back of my skirt waved a long and muscular black tail. I screamed again, staring with huge eyes at my new reflection, my heart pounding like a hammer in my chest. I rubbed my eyes. I slapped myself in the face. _I'm dreaming. Please, please tell me I'm dreaming! I'll wait a little while, and then it will all go away!_

Still, there I stood, staring straight at what looked like a neko-girl from some random anime series. My jaw fell open. I wasn't the type to favor resembling a neko-girl. I _really_ wasn't.

"It's all because of that… that panther thing…!"

There was no way I could go out in public with a pair of ears and a tail! I couldn't even go out of my room! What was I going to do? What in the hell is someone _supposed _to do when they discover they've got a pair of ears and a tail?

"I have got to calm down… okay, um…"

I grabbed a hold of the ears, which were soft and fuzzy, and tried to force them down into my head and make them disappear, but that only made them hurt. I closed my eyes and concentrated really hard, and said, "Ears! Tail! Be gone!" But when I opened my eyes, there they were, still just sitting there. I tried to cover the ears up with a hat, but the tail was left unassisted. Crashing around my room in chaos, I tried all sorts of various maneuvers and tricks, none of which succeeded. Shrieking and not victorious in the least, and collapsed onto my bed, on the verge of tears. I buried my face in my arms, instantly missing the old me, the perfectly human me. I could see myself clearly, without ears or a tail or anything… I wanted to be normal.

And that's when I felt them go. Just like that. I looked up, and cautiously I stalked to my mirror. They were gone. I fingered the top of my head, and stood there for a minute. Was it really that simple? Did I only have to _think_ about it? Dazed, I picked up my hairbrush and began to tame the tangled mess of my hair, then working it into two twin braids on either side of my head. I was going to go get my wallet back from Café Mew Mew, which was on the far side of town, so I might as well have looked presentable.

I'm not the frou-frou type, like many of the girls I know. Most of them buy into wearing cute little logo shirts, puffy little skirts and adorn themselves in pink from head to toe. I mean, really. They practically _worship _pink. The girls who didn't like pink, however, are all shadowy Goths, with wildly colored hair and chunky black outfits and dark eye make-up. I may not like sunshiny colors that much, but I'm not exactly like that, either. I guess I find it a bit pointless to dress that way, seeing as it's not very convenient, or even very attractive. …And I don't say that a lot.

Nope, I'm just a norm, like I've said before. Sorry to disappoint all you people who think I'm some uber-kawaii bishojo or some badass Goth chick. My favorite color is gray, and it always has been. I wear cool colors and I don't take pride in dressing like a whore, which seems to be a common trend nowadays. That morning, if I remember correctly, I wore a gray knit halter and a navy blue skirt, which, might I add, was completely ruffle-less. I flung on some black platform flip-flops and shoved my cell phone back into my black pocketbook, and headed out. My dad was probably already working by then.

I took to the sidewalk with irregular stealth, worming my way through the masses with efficiency. I moved quickly and soundlessly, not knowing exactly why I was pushing it upon myself to be unseen and inconspicuous. But, somehow, my brain was assuring me that it was all very necessary, so I continued on with my clandestine and nimble walking.

Every now and then, I reached up to the top of my head, as if I were checking for my fuzzy black ears to return. I prayed to the heavens that they wouldn't, not sure what I would do if someone saw me with animalistic additions. They could, perhaps, mistake me for a cosplayer, but somehow it didn't seem likely.

My stomach rumbled, and I noticed that I hadn't eaten breakfast because of my elongated slumber. A suddenly ravenous hunger triggered in my senses, and I longed for something meaty, something juicy and fresh from a hunt. The thought of meat only worsened the feeling of an empty stomach. I craved the sensation of closing my jaws over an inviting supply of meat, perhaps some pork, or beef. I licked my lips, wondering if Café Mew Mew had something plump and succulent I could eat. I wasn't sure why, but I was feeling so tensed, so carnivorous… I wanted to pounce on something…

I pushed back my hunger and tried to divert my attention to other things. I thought about school for a little while, surprised that I only had another day free until I had to return. Suspension wasn't all that bad when you had a father like mine - a father who seems to be unaware of the existence of his phone, or even his daughter, for that matter. This generally is a bad thing, but if you get in trouble frequently, it's actually quite handy. Dad would, at heart, not care if I had _killed_ Takamine Kichiro, but he would beat me to make it seem like he was taking care of something.

I paused, thinking about Kichiro. Were all guys like that? Were they _all_ violent idiots behind a gorgeous fleshy mask? Surely not. And, yeah, I'm very mildly violent at times, but I'm not an idiot. I'm pretty sure of that. So what about the rest of the human race? The males, pointedly? I sighed, dreaming of the time when I would actually meet member of the opposite sex who wouldn't want to pound my face in and actually had an IQ above 50. (As it turns out, I wasn't very far from that certain time. But there'll be more of that later.)

I reached Café Mew Mew faster than I anticipated, gulping as I looked upon the structure that I never thought I would ever be obliged to return to. I sighed, feeling a bit self-conscious as I pushed open the door and entered. The place was a little less busy than it had been before. I looked around nervously for a server, ready to ask about my wallet.

I stopped a waitress with long braids, glasses and a green outfit. She looked at me timidly with huge, frightened eyes, blushing a bit, as if I were threatening her somehow. "Um," I said, trying to sound polite. "I got a call that I left my wallet here. Can I have it back?" Suddenly, all of the color drained from her face. Her mouth opened and closed a couple times without her saying any words. She looked truly terrified, but she smiled a little and said, "O-of course. Wait a moment." Then she disappeared, heading to the back.

Why was she so afraid of me? I felt like a fool, involving myself which such a place, only to scare some innocent server. I wasn't comfortable in the café, really. I felt like I was being alienated somehow. I stood there, being all huffy and agitated. Little did I know, that this was only an extremely trifling matter, compared to what all this was going to become. Little did I know, it was about to get a lot, lot worse.

---

Uwahh! What's going to happen next? Persoanlly, I think it's pretty obvious. insert evil laughter here Sorry it took so long to update. A lot of stuff happened, and I had to go to a lot of camps, and then my birthday came, and then the sky fell and my goldfish ran away to Puerto Rico. Too bad, eh? Well, please R and R. I love you!

-NekoBun


	5. Revolution

**Panther Blues**

Konban wa! Thankies for the reviews. 'Tis time for the next chapter! There may be a little bit of fluff in this chapter, but I'm not sure yet. I'm still thinking about it. -does that thing from Bleach: "BOHAHAHAHA!"- …Oh, and… because I am the most awesome person alive, this certain chapter got deleted somehow, so now I'm having to retype it… grr… For a writer like me, that is a very annoying thing to have to do. Oh well… I'll deal with it… And for now, this is Sumono's story!

"_He's the kind of person who lights up the whole room just by flicking a switch."  
_-Anonymous

**Chapter Five!**

The green girl came back quickly, bowing. "Please follow me," she said in a quiet voice. Somehow, she looked even more nervous than before, and she walked quickly through the pink tables and chairs to the back room by the ladies restroom. I recognized the same little panther statue sitting there against the wall, innocent looking and staring ahead with a blank expression. My stomach turned at the sight of it, and I did not my best not to glare at the thing. _Stupid, stupid little panther thingy…! _

The girl cleared her throat and poked her head through the back room doors and said softly, "We've got her."

I sort of thought this was a slightly odd thing to say. _We've got her_. It sounded like she was going to kidnap me. Or maul me. Or force-feed me blueberry pie a la mode after hogtying me to a pink chair. I swallowed, fiddling with a keychain on my bag. Then, I heard a responding voice. It was that same male voice that I had heard over the phone, and when hearing it, I felt my face get a little hot, which sort of annoyed me. I hadn't even seen the guy's face, and already my face was growing hot. Anyway, the voice said, "Bring her in." I thought this, also, was an odd thing to say.

The green girl obliged and moved aside, opening the door for me. "Welcome in, Miss," she said, quietly as ever. I blinked. "Um," I said, unsure, "really, all I need is my wallet." The green girl stayed put, and shook her head ever so slightly. "Please, come." I sighed, figuring there wasn't much they could do to me in this kind of a place, anyway. Nothing could become of me.

Ha.

Ha.

Ha.

I entered, looking around. The back room wasn't at all what I had expected. It led off into an entire new section of the building, which was not nearly as pink or cutesy. There wasn't a bit of cooking equipment in sight, but there were, however, about ten different monitors and all sorts of fancy-looking technical stuff, along with a table that was covered with syringes, and a hella big computer. This made me shiver, but it didn't last very long as I noticed the green girl wasn't the only one in there with me. Not too far away, there stood a small group of waitresses with brightly-colored outfits. I recognized a couple of them. From behind a computerized-looking machine walked a tall young man with a long, dark ponytail and formal clothing. He smiled graciously, and I blushed. Could he be Shirogane Ryou?

"Well, hello, Miss."

Nope. His wasn't the voice. It was pleasant, but it wasn't the same. I bowed.

"Hi. I just need my wallet, please."

"Oh, yes. Certainly."

I stood there, waiting for him to pull it out and let me be on my way, but he didn't even budge. The waitresses by his side were all looking at him with anxious expressions, and then eyeing me quickly, and then looking at the green girl, exchanging what I supposed were intended to be furtive glances. What was all this, anyway?

"…Uh."

My voice echoed a little more than I would have liked. Yes, that's me, ever so clever and quick-tongued with my witty remarks. I'm sure I spent all night just thinking that one up. But I was just nervous, really. I just wanted to get out of there. These waitresses, the monitors, and especially the varying myriad of syringes were making me feel more uncomfortable than before.

From behind an array of more mechanical devices came someone I remembered somewhat clearly. He was the "Aryan", dressed in casual but expensive-looking clothes. There was a sort of cocky edge in the way he swaggered across the room, and straight up to me, his lips twisting into a lopsided, cute and overly confident smile. His blonde hair hung in his intelligent-looking blue eyes, and he squinted at me suspciously.

"Yup."

I'm serious. That's all he said, but I recognized his voice immediately. I felt my face turning a furious shade of red at the single syllable. The Aryan reached into his pocket and drew out my innocent wallet, holding right out of my reach, above my head, like he expected me to reach up and try to grab it like a monkey, or something.

"Are you Kobayashi Sumono?"

I nodded, trying to keep my eyes on the floor, so as not to meet his gaze and risk turning the color of a cranberry. I could almost feel his eyes observing every inch of my being, which didn't help me feel much better. I was practically yanking the key chains off my bag, waiting.

"Ah. Good."

He held out my wallet, and I took it from him cautiously, still taking great interest at the floor. I tucked it into my bag. "Arigato," I squeaked, and bowed, and then started to turn to the doors to leave. But he called out, stopping me with that somehow very nice voice.

"Just a moment, Sumono-san."

I turned around, a little spooked. _Please, not the syringes…_

"Um, yes?"

The Aryan didn't respond. Nope, no words, but he did take the liberty to reach out, grab the hem of my shirt, and lift it up.

Seriously, do I have a sign on my forehead that says, "Hey dudes, abuse me"?

Before I could do anything to him, though, the red-haired waitress screamed angrily and sent a flying kick at him, and the rest of them leapt on top of him, all yelling angrily. "Jesus, Ryou-kun, why do you always have to do it the perverted way?" a girl in blue with two buns demanded, swatting him harshly. A younger girl in yellow tackled him, and the pretty tall one in purple just sighed and crossed her arms, looking stern and annoyed. The green one, stood not too far away, looking nervous, stuttering. The tall guy with the ponytail just started to chuckle, like he was very amused by all this. He approached me, took my hand, and kissed it gingerly. I turned even redder.

"I'm terribly sorry about that, Miss Sumono. Ryou is a little abrupt sometimes."

I stared, completely horrified and agitated.

"_I'll_ say."

The ponytail guy chuckled again. "I'm sure you're very confused about all this. Allow us to introduce ourselves and explain a bit, shall we?" he said pleasantly. I nodded, bewildered. Suddenly, all of the girls sitting on top of the Aryan got up, and arranged themselves properly.

"My name is Akasaka Keiichiro," the man said, and after a dramatic pause, he extended his hand to the colorful waitresses, and finished, "And these are the Mew Mews."

-

"So you mean you swiped my wallet on purpose, all so you could lure me here and tell me you were involved with the Mew Mews? Do you do this to everybody? Are you trying to sell me something?" I was mad. No, I was furious. Who the heck _were_ these dumb people! The Mew Mews, my ass. I barely even believed those girls existed. I had never even really thought about them as normal human beings.

They had all introduced themselves. The redhead was Ichigo, who seemed to be the leader of the girls, and was also very cute. The bun girl was Mint, who was a bit prissy and whatnot, but she seemed okay. The yellow girl was Pudding, who was practically overflowing with energy, bouncing around spastically. The green girl was Lettuce, who was just as sweet and polite as before. The purple girl was Zakuro, who was beautiful, but didn't say much.

The girls had all gone now, having to return to their duties as waitresses, and Keiichiro had gone to keep the kitchen running, leaving me stranded with this weirdo, claiming that he was the fond employer of the Mew Mews, the very same Mew Mews I had seen on the news countless times, zooming around and fighting sources of evil.

And, yes, that gorgeous yet "abrupt" Aryan was Ryou, who looked a little moody after being attacked by these girls.

"We're not selling you anything," he huffed. "We haven't finished explaining yet. Earlier, I was only trying to find the mark, which should be located somewhere on your hip." Immediately, I remembered the intricate little paw print on my side that I had seen before getting into the shower the night before. The paw print, which I had seen just after the weird incident of knocking into the panther statue, somehow being given panther ears and a tail, and having weird feline instincts…

I'm sure Ryou recognized the look on my face, and he smiled. "That mark is very important," he informed me. "It means you're one of them, missy," he said, pointing at me dutifully. I blinked. I stared. I scratched my head, and then I blinked again.

"What…?"

"I said, you're one of them." He looked like he was trying not to laugh at my expression, because his nice face kept twitching.

"One of _them_," I repeated, beginning to shake. If he meant what I thought he meant, I was going to have to kill him. Kill _somebody_. I was so angry that I was shaking. There was no way. This was all just a bad dream. There was no way in this entire kingdom of dear Almighty God.

"Yes. You, Miss, are a Mew Mew."

I was trembling, assuring myself they were all just making fun of me. They had to be. This was all just a huge prank, and I was on some joke TV show, which was being broadcasted all over the world. I was sure that was it. "You're joking."

Just as he was shaking his head, looking very serious, I realized he couldn't be joking. I realized that if he were joking, then the entire thing with the ears and tail and the mark and the weird changes in daily routine would have to be something entirely different, which wasn't very likely. This was the only explanation I had received, and although it wasn't something I wanted to hear, it was the only plausible thing.

As truth dawned on me, a fresh wave of anger did, too. It claimed over my senses, clouding over my thinking and causing my joints to shake tremulously. Anger is a very normal thing for me. I suppose it runs in my family. I've always gotten mad about stuff, and once I'm mad, I don't cool it until either I get over it myself, of until someone conks me over the head. And now, my anger streamed through my veins with a pulse of ferocious animalistic rage, which I supposed was my new panther DNA. My hands balled into fists.

"Look, buddy," I hissed, finally meeting his gaze and staring into his lipid pools of sapphire eyes, "Do I look like a cute little Mew Mew to you? Do I have blue hair? Do I look like the kind of person who has _time _to save the planet? I do enough fighting at school. I just got suspended for two days for that, actually. I have to take care of my dad and focus on my studies, alright?"

"Look, I'm sorry about that," Ryou said, not sounding very sorry. "The rest of your team has to deal with the same sorts of things. Ichigo is in a very serious relationship with her boyfriend. Zakuro is a model. Pudding has to look after her family. Mint is dedicated to dance, and Lettuce to her studies. You're not the only one, okay?"

Naturally, this merely pissed me off further. "You have no idea what my life is like," I spat venomously. Ryou completely rejected this remark. "Oh, do I not? Have I not had a hard life myself? How do you think it feels to be _me_? I've dedicated my entire life to this project. How do you think it feels to be the only guy who owns a café and looks after a bunch of girls all the time?" he fired back, equally as tense.

"How do you think it feels to be the only girl who was to take care of a fat, drunk bastard? Who has to _raise her own father_?"

I was practically screaming. I could feel hot, angry tears forming in my eyes, stinging as they blurred my vision. I was so embarrassed. I was arguing with someone I hardly even knew, and sobbing right there in front of them. I quickly wiped away my tears, but only more came, and I felt my knees going weak. I felt so pathetic and idiotic, and my heart way heaving out such bitter resent that it was almost too much to really cope with. Why was I so emotional all of the sudden? Most people would say hormones, but I really think it was deeper than that. I just couldn't stop the tears.

"Jeez," Ryou said, his voice softening. "Hey, I didn't mean it that way. Are you okay?" He reached out and rubbed my back awkwardly.

I'm going to pause here for a brief moment to say that I have never experienced a positive influence from a male. All the men and guys I know closely are idiots. From my dad, Kichiro, my teacher, even the guy who delivers our mail is pretty awful. The man who lives in the next door over is really lewd, and I swear he calls prostitutes into his apartment, but I suppose that's a story for another time. Anyway, I guess all my life I've had pretty bad luck with guys. I even never met my grandpa, who lives in the U.S., supposedly. There are some okay guys at my school, but I'm pretty sure that after the whole Kichiro incident, they're all going to think I'm a real creep, so I might as well give up with that.

"And hey," Ryou said, still rubbing my back awkwardly, "I don't even officially know you're a Mew until I see if you have the mark." I blushed, and wiped another tear away from my eye. "I have it," I sighed. "At least, I'm pretty sure."

I reached for the bottom of my shirt and lifted it ever so slightly, tugging down my skirt a bit, until I could see the dark outline of the circular imprint. "There," I said, my voice still wavering with my tears. Ryou eyed the spot, and touched it gently, making sure it wasn't a fabrication, I suppose. The feeling of his rough fingers on my skin sent electro waves of static energy pulsing through my bloodstream, and I felt the color rising in my face again, my heart suddenly pounding like a drum in my ears.

My ears. A funny thing, those ears. Those ears which somehow decided that this was a good time to morph into fuzzy things at the top of my head, and a tail which stuck out from under my skirt, flicking around aimlessly. Ryou looked up at my fuzzies, smiling that cocky, lopsided smile. "That happens when you're nervous," he said, sounding somewhat entertained. I blushed furiously, hiding my face behind my hands.

"This is going to take a while for me to get used to," I groaned.

---

Phew! It's not easy to retype an entire chapter! It's really, really late right now. About 3:30 in the morning. So, yeah… R and R…

-NekoBun

p.s. Sorry about all the referrals to Ryou being "Aryan", because… ha ha… I know that isn't really politically correct. Incase you don't know what the Aryan race is, go study WWII a little, and it'll all make sense. I love Ryou... since Ichigo's already got Masaya (yuck), I like to tease him and stick him with random people. Ha ha ha ha!


	6. Emotions

**Panther Blues**

OMFG! I haven't posted in forever! I'm soooo sorry, everyone. I had to spend a couple weeks in another state and stay in a dorm with no internet connection… (sob) What kind of college doesn't have internet connection? What are the students supposed to do when they want to look something up, or contact someone? Gawd! After I came home, the internet wasn't working at all for a stream of days! I know that sounds like bull, but it's true! We're thinking about switching servers, because our current one is… well… shitty. (laugh) That is so bizarre… Anyway…

(huggles reviewers and throws them free jellybeans) Thank you sooo much! Yayness! This is chapter six, and I'm feeling a little like all the writing juice has been squeezed out of me, but I shall work it out to the best of my ability! I shall march forward like a dude in a parade getting paid to go so! Yeehaw! (This is mostly going to all be drabble… I'm trying to break through writers block at the moment… (sigh)

Sheesh, you know what I've noticed? Ryou is totally popular nowadays! Everyone keeps putting him in their romance fics! That makes me giggle, for some reason... (cough) Before I begin, I would like to say that I am going to be writing my favorite quotes in at the beginning of every chapter, just as I have been. Yay!

On with Sumono's story…

"_Every blessing ignored becomes a curse."  
_-Paulo Coelho, _The Alchemist_

**Chapter Six!**

Too fast. It was all happening way too fast.

I stumbled out of the back room, bursting through the doors. I was slightly dizzy with the dawning of my "new life". Or, at least, completely-changed-courses-within-the-blink-of-an-eye life. Either way, it was very confusing, and I wasn't taking it lightly, being the highly emotion individual that I was. I'm sure who to blame for the fact that I'm highly emotional, other than the obvious - my father. (I never met my mom properly, and my dad never talks about her, so I'm not exactly sure what sort of person she was…)

I sighed and slumped against the pink wallpaper, crossing my arms, not happy in the least. A small ways away, my new counterparts stood. I slouched there for a couple moments, observing these five other girls in bright, cute little waitress outfits. They were all unique-looking and strikingly pretty, like they were a bunch of celebrities, or something. All of these girls seemed to have something special about them - a special spark, a special talent, a special personality. Nothing like me, a normal girl with a normal life, not pretty or cute in the least, and harboring no distinctive qualities. There was nothing but me and my new panther genes, and even those didn't seem like much to be excited about.

Across the room, Ichigo, the redhead, spotted me standing alone and waved happily. I did my best to smile, but it felt incredibly fake and unmotivated. It had always been hard for me to cover up what I was really feeling, which is odd, because I did it so much. My very face muscles ached, and as if I had committed a highly physical act, I felt energy escaping from me at a rapid rate. Ichigo turned and said something to her other Mew Mew friends, and they all stopped what they were doing and approached me together. Ichigo offered me a glass of lemonade, which I took silently, unable to look the girls in the eye.

"So, I guess we should welcome you to the team," Mint said in a smug voice, and they all nodded in agreement. To this, I briefly wondered if being a Mew Mew involved some sort of initiation ceremony, and if I was going to have to do something for them. I was becoming a superhero, after all. Mint didn't say much else, though, so I figured not.

These girls were all special. They all had experience with fighting bad things, and they all seemed to know each other very well. Each of them seemed like a normal enough person, rather than how they did in front of a camera. They looked like they all were so much _more_ human than I had always thought. Were they really the fearless, "kawaii" bunch that everyone knew them as? Or were they like me, just normal strong-willed girls who happened to be involved with something that threw the rest of their life off completely?

Everything I had ever known was different. Everything I had thought would come for me in a normal, ordinary fashion was gone. Now, instead of waking up in the morning was Kobayashi Sumono, the freaky freshman that was notorious for being an outsider to the social world, I woke up as Mew Sumono, the freaky mutant that was notorious for having panther ears and inhuman powers. Was this who I was meant to be? Was I ever going to grow used to it?

"What is it like, being a Mew?"

My voice was so quiet that I could barely even hear it myself, mainly, I guess, because there was a sudden soft roaring in my eardrums. The roaring usually came when I was feeling overwhelmed.

The girls took the question into consideration, and finally Lettuce said, "It's exciting, for the most part, and it's hard work, but it all pays off." Ichigo agreed and said, "Transforming is a little confusing the first time, but it's cool, too." She smiled, and added, "Being a panther, it should be especially cool for you." I shrugged. I didn't think there was much too "cool" about being a mutant, personally. "And we haven't even seen you transform yet!" Pudding exclaimed happily, and wrapped her arms around my waist. Her huge golden eyes shone with excitement, and all of the others looked pleased enough, but somehow, something was very wrong to me. Unnatural.

It was awkward. I was standing there with superheroes, observing them all, wondering if indeed they were the bright battalion I had seen on the TV on many occasions. It was strange, thinking of them as distant omens of justice, as well-known, mysterious figures that I thought I would never come to understand or be close to, and then realizing, with a icy sinking feeling, that I was closer to them now than ever… I was one of them. I was a Mew Mew. I repeated it to myself in my mind, but no matter how many times I thought it, it didn't seem real. It didn't seem possible.

_I'm a Mew. I'm a Mew. I'm a Mew._

Nothing.

"It's a lot easier if you learn to accept it quickly, Sumono."

That had been Zakuro, who was staring intently at me. I could tell she was very serious by the look in her eyes, and by the way Lettuce quickly nodded in agreement. Zakuro seemed like a wise young woman, and she continued to speak to me: "It may seem as though you don't belong here, and like you are the last person on earth that should have become a part of this." I looked down as she continued. "That isn't a very good thing to go on. Please remember that. All of this is happening to you for a reason. In the end, it feels great to do something beneficial and moral for once."

She must have sounded very truthful and convincing, but at that moment, her words didn't register in my mind. I was distracted by something that was swelling up in the pit of my stomach. Something that was making me feel sick, claiming every part of me.

You know, I don't know if it's possible to be filled by emptiness. If it is, I can tell you I was ready to burst. It was about the emptiest I had felt in my life.

I took a sip of lemonade. It felt cool inside my mouth, but I couldn't taste it. My mind was somewhere else, somewhere cloudy and dark. I couldn't hear anything, and I couldn't see… I felt so numb. I opened my mouth to speak, but I didn't hear the words that came out. Wetness formed around my eyes, and I felt it on my cheeks, falling away from my face. Crying again, I noted, although I knew it was different this time. They weren't tears that came during a burst of emotion. They were tears that came during a lack of emotion, a lack of feeling. It was a peculiar thing, emotionless weeping. The numbness resonating through me acted as a dam, blocking away my feelings.

I could feel arms around my shoulders, comforting voices at my ear. The girls moved around me, and I knew they must have been confused and concerned, but I couldn't even see them. There were rushing voices, but I didn't hear them. My surroundings dulled away into a searing bright flash of white. The last thing I heard was the sound of breaking glass, shattering as cold liquid slashed on my legs, and the ground pulled up to meet me.

(NekoBun: Yes, she faints a lot, doesn't she?)

-

"_Why did you do that?"_

_Because I felt like it. Because I'm dumb. What more of a reason do you want?_

"_Tell me!"_

"_Why are you… Put that down!"_

_He doesn't put it down._

"_Put it down!"_

"_Shut up!"_

_A pounding ache in the side of the head, and then another. _

"_Stop it…"_

_Pinpricks of pain stabbing somewhere in my middle. I'm not sure what's causing it this time. It's happening way too fast, faster than the last time. This time he's angrier. He won't stop until he is unable to stand. _

"_Dad, stop it!"_

_I don't know how, or why. I don't know…_

The thing started to talk to me again. That little thing in the back of my mind. It was the same small voice, completely inaudible, but blaring loud.

_You _do _know, _it said.

_I don't. I don't, I don't know…_

But no matter how I assured myself, there was no denying it. The voice hadn't fought any, but it had won.

_It hadn't fought_, I thought.

_Struggles and anger is only a part of what it could be_, the voice informed me.

I couldn't understand.

-

I woke up to the heavenly scent of cooking meat, my eyelids heavy and thick with gunk, head spinning. With the aroma came a surprisingly loud gurgle from my stomach, and I felt myself urgently flopping out of a small, metal bed in pursuit of the smell. I expected to fall on the floor, but I caught myself just in time, much in a panther-like manner. That seemed to be the upside of my new genes - they gave sharp reflexes. I rubbed my eyes, blinking confusedly, taking in my surroundings. A small, barren-looking room with a desk and computer and a closet full of clothes - not much more.

"Ah. Ohayo, Panther-chan."

Panther-chan? I didn't have to look to know who it was. I could practically hear him smiling, and I tried to ignore it. And where was I? Why was I there? I stared at the Aryan, who was lounging in the doorway casually, as if he had been standing there all the while. He looked at me with his huge, penetrating blue eyes, amused again. I was too dazed to be cross with him, so I managed a smile.

"Ohayo, Shirogane-sa…"

Something registered just then.

"..AH!"

I shrieked, yanking at my hair. "What the hell do you mean, 'ohayo'? It's not morning, is it?" Morning? How? I couldn't remember anything from the night before… I gazed at the unmade bed, then at Ryou (noticing his partially unbuttoned shirt, and ogling for a very short second), to the bed, and then taking a darting glance at the mirror across the room, taking in the sight of rumpled pajamas and awful bed head. I shrieked again, spinning memories and coming up with unrealistic (yet, I shall painfully admit, very… "interesting") answers to the questions flowing through my head. This could have happened… That could have happened…

_That _could have happened…

Oh my God! No freaking way!

His smug little smile only confused me more… and it was confusing (and annoying) mainly because of the fact that I found his smile actually quite attractive. It had a warmth to it that I really hadn't seen in many people before, and I swayed for a moment, my train of thought disappearing momentarily. When it came back, I wanted to slap myself, but I maintained "composure".

"Where am I?"

The smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth was undeniably gorgeous. Damn bishi.

"My bedroom."

I swear to you, it was the second time I nearly choked on my own saliva. What in God's name was I doing in Ryou Shirogane's bedroom? I faintly answered my own question with something I didn't want to even consider, and attempted to push it back, red in the face. Still, the word echoed in my mind. _Bedroom… bedroom… _I shook my head to clear my thoughts.

"Your…? Wh… What, um, happened?" Dare I ask?

"Hmmm… You don't… _remember_?"

He moved into the room, and I cursed his little sexy swagger for jumbling my thoughts further.

"R-remember?"

I shook my head no. No, I didn't remember… what, exactly His eyes were playful.

"That's… _really_ too bad."

Mother of Jesus, _NOOO_! Say it isn't so!

"I… uh. I… don't, really. I don't recall… ever… uh… Oh, God!"

I had taken a look at my reflection again, frantic. Those damned panther ears! I tried to make them go away, but I suppose I was way too spastic to make it work. My face was beet red, and to this day I'm really not sure why, considering I couldn't even believe the thing I was fancying up in the first place... My heart was hammering perpetually in my eardrums, and I held my burning cheeks between my hands, heat radiating into my eyeballs, making my eyes water. He moved closer, closer.

"You know, you should get better at controlling your little ears… They may show up during inconvenient times…"

"I'm only in the ninth grade!" I cried, petrified. I covered my fuzzy ears. "You… you're _horrible_!"

He raised his eyebrows comically. "Wow. I didn't think so. Harsh critic, you are."

I gaped. I'm pretty sure my eyes could have popped out of my head if I let them. "I… we… you… I can't… believe…" I fought with my memory, taking fleeting glances at the bed behind me, at him, and down at myself at certain times, totally mortified. I knew he was fighting to keep a straight face, because his upper lip twitched.

Ryou started to laugh. I didn't really get why, considering the circumstances…! This really wasn't funny! The jerk probably didn't understand the sensitivity of being female, did he? Moron! Freak! Oh, _how_? "You're not… serious…" He only laughed harder. "…Are you?" I squeaked. I was trembling. My black tail was still and low with my jumbled emotions. He was bent over, clutching his sides. How could he be laughing at _that_? _That _thatAnd why didn't I _remember _anything? Did I have amnesia? And of all the things _not_ to remember…

He was cracking up, practically on the floor. At the sight of him like that, nearly spitting, it hit me. My face increased its temperature threateningly. I'm pretty sure I looked like a tomato with hair and panther ears.

"YOU… BASTARD!"

Infuriated,I hurtled a pillow at him. He rolled on the floor laughing and gasping for breath. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry… You're just so… gullible…"

(NekoBun: Sumono's a moody lass. One hour she's nearly dying of depression, the next she's throwing pillows at her hot boss. Ah, to be young. Sumono: You're really not one to talk…)

It took me a bit to calm down, considering I really despise having my leg pulled, but when he took me down to breakfast my thoughts were distracted completely. The smell of the meat even made it okay to dine in such a pink place as the café! The meat! The succulent, juicy, bloody, fresh-from-a-hunt…

"Y'know, Sumono, you could at least attempt to eat like a human being."

I stared down at my hands, which were covered in rice and other traces of food, and felt stickiness forming around my mouth, bits of meat shredded on the tray below. I blushed. "Sorry," I said. "It's hard to control sometimes. I just get so ravenous…"

-

It was a little hard to believe that I had slept through the entire day and into the next. Keiichiro told me I had become conscious for a little while after I had passed out, long enough to change into some of Ryou's pajamas (Santa Maria, WHYY?) and fall asleep in his room. He told me that the other Mews had been very concerned, but had to go home after some time, and that they left their wishes with me. All in all… I was extremely embarrassed.

After I had eaten, I remembered my father, and a stab of guilty dispair quaked my heart.

"He's going to positively murder me!" I screamed, rushing to change into my own clothes, but halfway upstairs, Keiichiro stopped me. "We've already taken care of it. You were staying over at a friend's house," he said, and winked. I stared. And technically, it was true, wasn't it? …Although, "friend" was stretching it a little… jerk… "Thanks a lot," I sighed, relieved. "You're very kind, Akasaka-san." He smiled and said, "Please, call me Keiichiro." I blushed.

I decided to rest a little around the back room with all of the technological instruments. Ryou was sitting by a computer monitor, looking studious. I guessed he spent a lot of time sitting there, looking after the wellfare of the city. How could a cocky, waggish guy like him be doing something so valiant? Or was it all something that had been forced upon him, like for me…?

Honestly. Plain, poor fist fighters don't become superheroes. Bishojo do. Guys from Kryptonite do. I mean, sure, Hellboy had it rough, but some on… he was supernatural to begin with. (NekoBun: Even though I'm pretty sure they don't have _Hellboy_ in Japan…) And even Ichigo, who seemed normal enough, had cuteness on her side! Not me. I wasn't cute in the least. Nice eyes, maybe, but even so they were normal and brown.

I spied on the Aryan discreetly from around a corner, thinking myself totally invisible until he said, "Quit standing there. What do you want, anyway?" his voice sounded cold and distant, which took me aback. Just minutes ago, his voice had been light and self-important, and even though that was irritating, it had been more pleasant than this. I didn't find a way to respond, so instead, I asked him a question.

"Um, you know how every Mew has a certain… sort of… transformation color? Like, Lettuce is green, and Pudding is yellow…"

"Yeah, so?"

"What color, um, do you think I would be?"

I hadn't meant to sound all cute and to draw attention to myself. I meant it seriously, out of pure curiosity. I didn't want him to think that I was like the other girls I knew… you know, ditzy and air-headed. The type that asks guys questions in order to flatter themselves. I dreaded sounding like that. But the truth was, at that moment, I had. It was sort of disappointing.

He swiveled his chair around to look at me, squinting, like he was trying to make sense of it. I at once felt stupid. "I mean, I was just…" But he just shot me a cold look that said, _Would you please stop blubbering like that?_ I fell silent, feeling even more foolish. I hadn't meant to bother him... And I wanted to tell him that, but I kept quiet, eyes on the floor. It was silent for a few stressing moments.

It surprised me when he actually answered my question just as seriously as I had intended:

"…Gray. You're gray."

"Really? You think so?"

He nodded sharply. His gaze was now glued to the monitor screen. I found myself smiling a little, despite his sudden aloof nature. Like I've said, love the color gray.

"Okay. But… why? I'm only curious."

"No… It's stupid. Forget it. Now, go. I'm busy."

Stupid? How? I grinned to myself, and almost giggled. Was he being self-conscious? Or just being his abrupt self? I wanted to ask, but being a little intimidated by him, I only thanked him and walked away. No, I practically skipped away. Gray! Ryou thought I was gray! It was so unlike the other colors, the bright ones. Bright colors aren't bad, or anything. But gray is different. Gray is distinctive in its own way. Gray is the color of people - between pure white and dark black reside human beings, each their own shade of gray.

And then I began to think of what it would be like to transform, and how I would look. I thought of all the varying costumes… Zakuro's skimpy shorts, Mint's simple dress, Ichigo's puffy skirt… I wasn't the type top wear any of it. What would my outfit look like? What else would change? I looked down at my palms, wondering what it would be like to use power through my own hands, wondering what kind of weapon I would use… This is like a fairy tale, I though to myself, baffled. It was so surreal…

The time came when I told the two I had to get going. I exited feeling excited, which I know is odd. Just the other day, I had hated it. I had rejected it with every fiber of my being, so much that my physical being had given out on me. I guess it might have been hormones, like anyone else might have dismissed it as. But, again, I didn't think so. I was happy. _Happy_. Me, Sumono Kobayashi, was feeling gleeful and nice, and I left Café Mew Mew with a bounce in my step, enjoying the morning air, like I was ready for anything.

At least that's what I thought.

---

Ooh! Ha ha, weird, bad, drabbly chapter. I sorry for that! Like I said, I'm trying to get through writer's block, here! That Ryou… he's too much! (does the Dramacon thing and wiggles fingers: "Teeentacles…") Hah! The spigot in my mind has a leak, it needs some work! Please R and R!

-NekoBun

p.s. Sorry about the constant "taking-holy-names-in-vain" thing, for you religious folks… I have no problem with religious folks, and I can be very religious myself, but Sumono, as a made-up character, is not. She's gruff and straight-forward a lot, so she probably won't take much time to clear out her "language" … and that's the way I'm writing it! It's really no where near as bad as it could be. Deal with it!


	7. Latte

**Panther Blues**

Howdy folks! I think I've seriously lost all my macho-ness for this story (not that I had macho-ness to begin with). I feel so uninspired… (sob). Still, I'll work it out, even though at the moment all I'm really doing is striving to get through each chapter and finish the story. (my other story is on hiatus… heheheh… I'm so uncommitted! I want to finish this one!) So, yeah. Thanks for the support. (I changed the summary… just because… I felt like it? I dunno.)

I know I'm not getting many reviews… A lot of people say you should stop writing your fiction if no one is reading it. Ha ha… you know what? I don't care! Bwa ha ha! Writing is the only reason I'm here! And beside that, I am getting a few reviews from some people! (huggles reviewers) Unless you're one person pretending to be a couple... Hah… Then, thank you, reviewer!

"_You can tell a lot about a man's character by his way of eating jellybeans."_

-Ronald Reagan

(NekoBun: Amen to jellybeans!)

**Chapter Seven!**

Yes, I was oh-so-happy as I strolled casually down the street, thinking maybe I would have time to stop and window shop by a couple nice stores, buy myself a drink, and skip around like a merry little lunatic. I was rejuvenated! Excited! Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all! Perhaps this would give me the true identity I had always been searching for all this time - an identity other than that random grumpy girl in the corner who complains a lot! I walked about for what must have been hours, trailing around the Tokyo streets. I lingered at the manga shelf in a convenience store until around 3:30 in the afternoon, which was when a lot of school kids started to show up. It was a bit to crowded in there to enjoy myself, so I happily skipped about elsewhere… I think it must have been around a park bench.

And then my cell phone rang.

I answered gleefully, wondering who was calling, unaware of the disaster to befall me momentarily.

"Moshi moshi?"

"Uh. Kobayashi?"

I blinked. Whose voice was this? I was usually pretty good with voices, but for some reason, this one made my stomach twist a bit.

"Who is this?"

There was a short pause on the other end as I heard the person take in a bit of a deep breath. I blinked, waiting.

"It's me, Takamine."

You're right if you guessed this was the turning point in my day. I nearly fell over, I tell you. Why were an assortment of very annoying males suddenly intrigued by talking with me over my cell phone? Why, in the name of all that is good, was my mortal enemy _calling me_? If he wanted to ruin something in my life, couldn't he at least just walk up to me and do it in person?

"How the hell did you get my phone number?"

Yes, I'm charming, aren't I? I don't mean to gloat, but I had nerve to still be speaking that way to the most hunky, hot popular guy in school. Served him right.

"Your, uh, friend gave it to me. The one with the freckles."

Ack! Namiko, that absolute _traitor_! Ooh, yeah, was I pissed. How could she do that? …Then again, the poor thing had a crush on Kichiro the size of Texas… he could probably get her to jump through a flaming hoop if he asked.

"What do you want? You've already done enough to screw things up for me."

"Uh. Gomen."

"What do you mean, 'gomen'? What in God's name is your problem?"

"I don't have a problem!"

"Oh, really? You nearly _killed _me!"

A couple people nearby turned to look at me with quizzical expressions. I'm sure I sounded like a psycho. A very agitated voice filled up the other end.

"Well look, I'm sorry! I'm sorry I got you suspended!"

"You should be!"

"Yeah! And you know what _else_?"

"_What_?"

"I wanted to know if you'd like to go for a latte as an apology!"

"L… latte?"

My voice was high-pitched and squeaky. I'm pretty sure my face turned all shades of red at that moment… I'm not sure out of which: embarrassment, anger, confusement… Since when do jocks who slammed your head into a desk ask you out for a latte? Why was everything so screwed up lately? I couldn't really answer. I just went, "God... My head hurts…"

"Well… Do you?"

What was I supposed to say? No? Not like I could. I'm a bit pissy, but I'm not… you know… cruel. I don't like trampling on apologies. But I don't like sounding dumb, either. I didn't know what exactly I was supposed to say at a moment like that. Are you supposed to accept an apology from somebody like that? A long silence followed.

Then Kichiro said a bit sadly, "You're really not a nice person, you know that? If you don't want one, just say so." Aw, come on! Not the guilty treatment again! Beet red, I blinked confusedly and blurted, "Okay! I'll go!"

I could almost _hear_ his astonishment. I swear it.

"O-oh. Okay."

Which was how, five minutes later (after standing around and cursing myself for being nice), I was on my way to some random coffee shop I had never heard of before, marching right off to my impending doom with my arch nemesis. Like we were going on a _date_. Oh, _why_? This world was so twisted! So bizarre! I was forming my own little Shakespeare tragedy just by walking around! I almost felt like shaking my fist at she sky and cursing the ghost of Shakespeare for being so unforgiving, like some huge evil god of writing. …Maybe Shakespeare _is_ God.

(NekoBun: What Sumono doesn't know, is, in fact, I am responsible for all of her life's maladies… bwa ha ha ha!)

Well, Shakepere or not, there I was, arriving right on time at the designated area. Thankfully, it was no where near as monstrously pink and adorable as Café Mew Mew. It actually seemed like the sort of place I would walk into willingly, despite its plain nature. As I pushed the door open, I hoped prayed that Kichiro wouldn't be there, that he was just pulling one on me, and that I could continue on my way without having to hang around with him…

But there he was, a tall dark figure not too far away, still in his school uniform. My heart started hammering threateningly, and I nervously remembered my little panther ears and tail, desperately hoping that they wouldn't pop up. _"You know, you should get better at controlling your little ears… They may show up during inconvenient times…" _I didn't want to admit it, but Ryou really was right. I had no idea what I would do if Kichiro looked up, and, ah! I had animal ears. It would be quite a problem…

He approached me, and to my surprise, his face looked just how I felt inside: apprehensive, nervous, wishing to be any place but here… At least we were in the same boat. I grimaced, and he did, too. It was a weird way of greeting each other, but somehow, it seemed fitting. I felt like saying, "Why am I here, exactly?" but I kept my mouth shut and stuck out my hand. That's a girl. Be brave.

He eyed my hand suspiciously, but shook it while he said in a miffed way, "You're such a tomboy." I squinted, controlling my urge to shout at him again. Interesting, the first thing that flew out of his mouth was another insult. "Really. How so?" I asked through gritted teeth. He shrugged. "I dunno. Most girls would bow… and act all… you know…"

"Flirty?" I finished for him flatly. He shrugged and looked at his feet. It took every once of my energy not to whack the top of his head. What, he wanted me to flirt with him? Sick bastard. Sexist freak. A stream of other multiple put-downs streamed through my mind and safely behind my mouth, which was locked shut. This time, I wouldn't get into it with him (especially not in public). We were here to make things straight, not to argue again.

I sighed and pulled out my wallet. "Okay, better get to the latte-buying now, I suppose," I said, to change the subject. We walked to the counter and ordered our drinks, and then exited the shop to sit on an iron table outside, where the weather was nice and breezy. We were seated across from each other, silent as the grave. It was a little awkward. After awkwardness came a sudden wave of embarrassment when I suddenly realized we probably looked like some kind of couple, which made my stomach turn. I was getting urges to check my watch, say, "Well, would you look at the time!" and rush off to some fabricated appointment. I was desperate to end the silence, until Kichiro looked up and said suddenly, "Why did you say yes?"

I guess I was pretty taken aback by this question. Kichiro was the kind of guy that girls _always_ said "yes" to. Shouldn't he be used to it by now? I rubbed my neck thoughtfully,squinting in the sun. Why _did_ I say yes? I had no idea. I had felt guilty. Pressured. Like I had better go ahead and get the apology thing over and done with so that I didn't have to worry about it any longer. I wasn't really sure why I had agreed to go get some coffee with someone I had always hated… So all I could do was shrug. "I don't know."

"That's not very specific."

"It's true."

Kichiro looked a bit let-down. What did he want me to say? _Because, darling Takamine, I am madly in love with you and I have dreams of being ravished in the nighttime_? Sh'yeah. Right. He was just going to have to deal with disappointment. For once in his life, he wasn't going to get attention from somebody. I took a sip of my latte, enjoying the flavor, although it wasn't as good as meat.

"I don't get you," Kichiro said. "You're so… weird." I looked up, arching an eyebrow. "Not like I don't know," I said. _Could we please stop remarking on my abnormalities? _He frowned. "Yeah, you _know _you're weird, so why don't you try to act normal? You know, act regularly, like you're a girl? If you _know _you're weird, why aren't changing it?" He seemed very puzzled by the fact that I wasn't conforming. Why should I? Why conform to please people I didn't like, like a mindess zombie? He wanted me to be like _the_m, because he simply couldn't understand me. This was a little disgusting to me, and he sounded like a Neanderthal to me, but hey, it wasn't his fault. He had been brainwashed into society.

"Look, dude," I said. "I don't care that I'm weird. I _like_ being myself. Compared to some people, I'm as normal as can be. Okay?" He looked taken aback, but he said, "Okay. I mean, it's still weird, but it's… also…" He trailed off, nervous-looking. My arched brow raised even higher. "It's also what?" "…It's kind of cool." He looked around uncomfortably, like what he was saying was something entirely secret, and as if no one could know he thought this, lest he be shunned from the social world completely.

I couldn't help it. I started to laugh. It was too funny! The ashamed look on his face was too funny! HA! I had totally won that battle. He said I was _cool_. The loser! I won! I was starting to enjoy this. Sweet, sweet revenge! He just stared at me, like he didn't quite get why I was laughing. "I'm serious," he said in this low voice. "It's cool." I couldn't help but grin at him.

"Really? Cool, huh?"

"Don't get your ego all inflated."

"Speak for yourself!"

He chuckled, then gave me this cute little pouting look, and it was then, I guess, that I could fully understand why there were all these girls flocking after him like blinded sheep. The guy was flat-out gorgeous. Eyes like two chocolate moons and lined with a dark fringe of long eyelashes, serious eyebrows, a chiseled jaw line and full lips, cute floppy hair that hung in his face a little. I struggled to remind myself that he was the same person who had nearly given me brain damage in a fist fight, but somehow, that all seemed like it was totally irrelevant. He seemed so much different outside of school, so much more… well, I don't like admitting it now, but he was to desirable. I knew that if I moved just a couple inches farther across the table I was be close enough to reach out and hold his face in my hands…

I must have been zoning out, or something, because he went, "Hey. Are you okay?", awaking me from my dream (or, more appropriately, nightmare).

I had opened my mouth to respond, but I don't remember what I was going to say, because that's when I heard it. This sort of high-pitched, ugly squaking noise, not too far away. My blood suddenly ran cold, and I had an unshakable sense of something bad. Something horrible, actually, and dangerous. It was close. _Hungry_. The squaking got louder, unbarably so, and I covered my ears. I looked up at Kichiro, who was blinking confusedly. "What?" he asked. "You don't hear that?" I cried out, the shrill noise bending my eardrums. I heard a huge, heavy flapping noise, the sound of wind rushing just above… and then I looked up at the thing, hanging low in the sky, a great shadow overhead.

It was a gigantic bird. I'm am _so_ not shitting you. Huge, angrily flapping black wings and menacing talons, a curved beak, and four - yes, four - beady yellow eyes. The thing was the size of a small one-man airplane, and it was about to dive. People around looked up in terror, shrieking and fleeing at the sight of the colossal thing. My jaw dropped as I relized what it was.

A Kirema Anima.

Panick flooded my veins as I suddenly knew that I was a Mew, and that was an alien, and therefore it was my duty to defeat it, lest innocent people be harmed, or possibly eaten, or whatever the heck that thing wanted to have happen. That was the first thing I thought of. The second thing I thought of was the fact that I had no idea how to defeat it, because I supposed that included knowing how to transform, which I did not. The third thing I thought of was the fact that even if I had miraculously discover a way to transform, I would have to do it right smack in front of hundreds of people - people including Kichiro, who was terrifyingly high on the social ladder, and had the power to spread my true identity across the nation in the blink of an eye.

I took a frantic look at Kichiro, whose eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open as he stared at the menacing animal. He had an expression that read, "What in God's name _is_ that thing?" It was really more out of awe than fear, I guess because Kichiro was exceptionally stupid and human-like, and couldn't sense the danger pulsating through the air. Moments later, he pointed up at the bird and went, in a pretty lame way, "Holy shit, it's a giant bird!" as if no one had noticed it already. I felt like hitting him angrily, but I managed to distract myself with the fact that I had to be the one to take it down.

Praying for my fighting spirit to kick in a little, I lifted my shaking body from the table and slipped off, dashing for the side of the coffee shop where I was out of view from the public. I was just thinking about ways to transform when suddenly I noticed that Kichiro had followed me back, probably thinking I was running in fear of the thing. My heart leapt. The bird flapped low, keen eyes surveying where he stood below its wrath. Everything was happening too quickly. I screamed angrily and pushed Kichiro out of the way, and he toppled onto the concrete. "What the hell?" he demanded, but I ignored him, circling around the the back of the shop and into a narrow alleyway. I had to transform, but I was leaving him in danger. Heck, I was leaving _everyone_ in danger! Spastic, I slumped up against the hard cement wall, hands rubbing my temples where my pulse pounded. I closed my eyes.

_Transform_, I told myself firmly. I waited for something to happen, but when I opened my eyes, I was still the same, still afraid. I closed them again, urgent. _Transform_! I yelled to myself, tensing every muscle in my body as if I could force myself into being supernatural. I tried harder, stilling my mind, heart beating quickly, but a shriek from the winged beast broke my consentration. I whirled around and dashed down the alley and around the corner to find Kichiro pinned up against the wall, helpless as a mouse being stalked by a cat, cornered by the taloned creature.

"Takamine!"

I couldn't help but scream his name out. Mew or not, there was no way I could just stand there and not help all these people. I saw him turn to look at me with a strange, doubtful expression, as if he didn't quite believe I was even still there. "You. Run," he grunted weakly, but in truth I couldn't move. I don't even think he noticed whether I had stayed of gone. I saw him snap his head away to gaze up in anguish. I saw the birds muscles tense. Everything was slow motion from then.

The Kirema Anima threw its beak forward and plunged. My heart rate was wild, out of control. Kichiro's face was white and plastered with fear. I couldn't let him die. I didn't care how much I hated him. I couldn't let _anyone _die on my own hands. I leapt for him, but he didn't see me. His eyes were on the bird. Good thing at that, as it turned out, because by the time I reached him I was no longer me.

---

Ooh! Cliffie, maybe? Sorry this chappie is kind of short! Ah well! It's late and I'm tired and I have to go shoping tomorrow, which is never fun (I mean, when you're shopping for school uniforms. Otherwise, it's okay). Well, please R and R! Thankies!

-NekoBun


	8. Transformations

**Panther Blues**

Mmmkay. Not much to say right now, other than this is chapter eight, and I hope you enjoy. Thanks for everything, guys.

"There are no safe choices… Only different ones."  
-Hester Moore, _A Great and Terrible Beauty_

**Chapter Eight!**

My fear was gone. My doubt. Everything, vanished behind a new set of eyes, a new body, a new soul. I was new. I was justified. I was brave. I was…

I was screaming cheesy battle lines.

"Talons off him, punk!"

Yeah, that was me. I called the bird a _punk_, although I really have no idea how an animal can be classified as such. But anyway, I couldn't control it. Everything was spilling of my mouth as if it had been pre-programmed by a computer. It was the strangest, best feeling I had ever experienced. I looked down and saw myself wearing a chunky pair of black combat boots beneath the fringe of a short gray skirt. I noticed I my panther tail was back, but the rest I wouldn't see, for I was much too flustered. I hadn't even had to try, and there I was. I was a Mew Mew.

I shoved my index finger in the face of the Kirema Anima, and I must have looked pretty triumphant and cool this way, because all the panicking people stopped and gazed in awe at my unbeatably fluffy wrath over the big bad bird. I could feel a sort of tingle in my veins as I shouted, "You're going to pay for this, you despicable spawn of evil!"

I felt like covering my mouth after that flew out. What had happened to me? What had happened to my beloved crudeness? My edge? It had all disappeared behind a lovable masquerade. Why couldn't I just call the bird a mother and be on my way? I wanted to scream at myself, but I couldn't! I couldn't stop.

"Plum Fan Paradise!"

Now, I could feel it. An unfamiliar energy rushing to my fingertips, the sensation of power. There was no denying it - I loved it. The energy burst out from my palms in blinding white light and rapidly took form of a thin rectangular thing. The light faded and I instantly saw it was some sort of karate fan. I whipped it open, sending a sheath of powerful energy blasting straight towards the breast of the Kirema Anima, and it squaked and backed away. The people accumulating around "oohed" and "aahed", giving me a flicker of confidence.

I jumped up into the air, and instead of falling straight back down, I found that suddenly I could defy the laws of gravity, elevating to a thrilling hight. I lunged for the bird, but it escaped narrowly and plummeted down to its original prey, who was Kichiro. His face went white again and he staggered to the side. I had the impulse to scream his name aloud again, but I realized I couldn't - not if I wanted to give myself away. I advanced sent another ark-like flash of energy at the bird's wing, sending a mess of feathers about into the air, the creature squawking like a wounded chicken. It thrashed angrily. I zoomed on after the creature and flipped over its head in front of it, twisted around, and sent a flying kick right at the corner of its "jaw".

That's when we all heard the sickening sound of its neck snap like a dry twig, causing it to cry out, petrified and in pain. We all grimaced and braced ourselves, and it fell downward. Right as it was hitting the ground, it dissolved into nothingness, leaving only a startled-looking, small falcon to go flying away into the blue, blue sky.

My boots hit the ground and I spun around, not really sure how the whole thing had happened. At first, there was a dead silence. Then, there was a huge roar of voices. I looked around confusedly. What were all the people doing? What was that noise? …They were cheering. The voices were cheering. And for once, in my entire plain, eventless, sucky life… they were cheering for _me_.

It felt really good. Better than good. It was even a little nice when I turned arount to see if Kichiro was all right, discovering that he was indeed very okay - not only was okay, but he also had the gusto to say, "Thanks. You're hot." Of course, he didn't know who I was. I was grateful for that. I was also grateful for the fact that Kichiro Takamine had given me some form of physical approval. Actaully, I felt so good about it that I had the sudden urge to go examine myself in a mirror, so I waved good bye to the cheering crowd and disappeared into the now totally empty coffee shop, heading right towards the ladies room.

I almost … No, I _did_ fall over. One look at myself, and I felt like a completely different person. The first thing I noticed was that I had blue eyes. Not just any blue, either, but a beautiful, piercing, gem-like kind of blue… the color of an iceburg, and equally as shiney. My hair was no longer brownish, but a nice, sleek shade of black, and it was slightly wavey. My was wearing probably one of the weirdest things that had ever touched my skin. It was a short, sleeveless dress with a corset in my favorite shade of gray, and the more I stared at myself like an insane narcissist, the more I loved it. The best part, I shall humbly admit, was the fact that I now had cleavage. I also had on a black pair of black elbow high gloves with little icey blue ribbons at the ends, and totally kickass black combat boots laced up with the same blue ribbons.

It was was too weird. I had never seen anything like this on myself before. It was bizarre, and although I sort of looked like a prostitute with panther ears, I liked it. And Kichiro was right, in a way. I _was _hot.

"Quit gawking at yourself. Although, I can't blame you."

My Mew costume dissolved right there and then, replaced by my old clothes. I spun around and found myself looking up into the eyes of our beloved Aryan. My jaw dropped. I suddenly became extremely self-conscious, and felt like covering up every inch of exposed skin on me. "Why in God's name are you in the women's bathroom, you sick pervert? Isn't there a law against that or something?" He rolled his eyes. "I'm the boss of a team of superheroes. Rules don't apply to me." My jaw dropped even farther. He had some nerve.

"W-why are you here?"

"To tell you that you did a surprisingly good job for your first try at a fight."

"You _saw_ all that?"

"Of course."

I blinked, annoyed. "What do you mean, 'of course'?" I demanded.

"Of course, because, I was the one who caused it."

My eyes must have been bulging out of my head. My face turned bright red (I could see it, too, in the mirror beside me). "You… you…" I struggled for words. Should I have been angry with him? I'm not sure. But I was. I brought my hand back, and then sent it forward, flying straight at his face. He caught my hand right before it slapped his perfect face, and wouldn't let it go. I'm still not sure why, but tears formed in my eyes, stinging my lids and blurring my vision. I felt like an idiot, standing there in the ladies' room with my boss, crying and angry. I shouldn't have been angry.

I just felt cheated. My heart hurt. It only occurs to me now that it was personal to me… the fact that I guess I had sort of trusted Ryou somehow. I felt like maybe I counted as a person to him, but that with this, I felt like I was only a robot in his eyes. It shouldn't have mattered to me. But it did.

"Why are you crying?" he asked me, surprised. He was still holding my hand, and with his other hand he reached up and wiped a tear away from my face.I fought the urge to resist him. I didn't answer. I didn't trust myself to speak, because I already felt like a moron as it was. I failed to suppress an unnecessary sob. "H…hey, now… are you all right?" Ryou bent down a bit to look me in the face, and I resentfully returned his gaze. He patted my head awkwardly.

"Don't worry. No real harm would come to anyone, I promise. I just wanted to help you get used to transforming and fighting."

"So, am I your robot, or what?"

He blinked at me, then frowned in a thoughtful way, rubbing his chin. "You know," he said. "Ichigo said that too, in the very beginning. Something about robots, at least." I thought about dear, sweet Ichigo and her boyfriend - I hadn't met him yet - and how she seemed like a strong girl. Maybe she had had hope for Ryou way back when, too... "If she said the same thing, then why haven't you gotten the message yet?" I said, looking down and descreetly blushing when I noticed our hands were still clasped together. Ryou smiled. "I guess I can't read the message," he admitted. "Unless some one who understands it could help me." I was embarrassed, but I said, "We just… um…"

"Mm?"

"We just wanted to be treated like people you like to work with… and.. and not like robots or machinery or weapons… not like we're _material_."

He grinned. "Is this another one of those 'men seeing women as items' thing?" I turned the color of a tomato again.

"No, it's not like that!"

Well. Maybe.

"It's just that we… _I_… don't want to feel like…"

"Just go ahead and spit it out. Honestly. It's okay."

The room began to swim. I felt tears accumulating in my eyes like water balloons ready to explode down my face and threaten my sanity and force me to look like an absolute idiot… The idiot I truly was. I don't even know why I bothered to hide it.

"I just don't want to feel like I only matter to you because I'm your bloody _weapon_!"

Maybe I had spit it out a little more loudly than I had intended. I immediately looked at the yellow tiled floor and tried to walk past Ryou. I wanted to to get out of that bathroom and be in the fresh air, like a normal girl on her way home from work, and not standing around with a weird guy after fighting a monster of sorts. He followed me but still held onto my hand. I tried to worm away, but he was too strong.

"Let me go, would you?"

"No."

"No? Why? Are you going to take me back for testing or something?"

"No! I just don't want you to run away, okay?"

"_Why_?"

"Just… _because_!"

I glared at him. _Just because_. Who was he, a haiku writer? Very descriptive! Very sensitive! The more I glared at him with my mocking feelings, the more his face seemed to change in expression. After a few moments I realized it had settled on looking pained. Pain was overtaking every part of his face. Did he really dislike me that much? Was I really causing that much trouble for him? Eventually, he let my hand go.

"Whatever. Run along and find for boyfriend."

I blanched and started.

"He is _not_ by boyfriend!"

He had already turned around and begun to walk off. I stared, mouth ajar. I couldn't believe it. What an ass! It was really true, then, wasn't it? All men were idiots. Emotionless, stupid, evil, conniving idiots! I'd had it! I stormed out of the coffee shop and looked around for Kichiro, where I found him by a trashcan, smoking. My stomach dropped to the ground. I had forgotten about his little… habit. He saw me and waved a bit, but all I could do was glare.

"You totally missed it," he said, looking really excited and waving his cigarette about so that it sent smoke hovering everywhere around his head. "This chick in a cat get-up totally beat the crap out of that bird." I faked an interested smile. "Did she, now?" He nodded with gusto. "She looked like the girls on TV. You know, the Meow-Meows." "Mew Mews," I corrected sharply. He just sort of blinked at me and took another drag from his cigarette. "Whatever. Anyway, it was great. You should have seen it. She, like, _saved_ me, personally." I smirked. "Really? So you weren't man enough to fight off the big bad bird?" He shrugged. "I figured I'd give her the glory." It took everything I had not to snort in disgust. His face had been as white as a sheet, and he had been trembling like a little kid.

"Where were _you_ during all that, anyway?"

"Oh, uh. I was, um, off by some bookstore, waiting for it to blow over."

"Ha. I knew it. Coward."

I sighed, lacking the energy to argue.

"I guess so."

-

I was at home, making dinner while I watched the TV across the room. My eyelids were drooping any heavy. My head was spinning. My dad was on the couch, having another beer and scratching himself in obscene places. I wished I could snatch his beer away and chuck it out the window. I wished I could turn him into the police for being a slimy drunkard. I wished he would talk to me. …It was be a typical night for us.

I dreaded the tought of the next day, which was the day I had to return to school and face all of the kids there… the kids who would forever see me as "the girl who punched the god of our high school". My stomach seemed to sink at the very thought of it. I'm sure even Namiko probably would have taken a disliking to me by now, seeing as she probably though Kichiro and I had gone out on some date. At least, after he had stupidly gone and asked her for my number. Ugh.

Anyway, I was waiting for the news to come on… waiting for the program that was prone to broadcasting the latest reports of the Mew Mews. I was completely apprehensive, waiting to see myself fighting a Kirema Anima like the restof them. I was too tired to consentrate on food, so I'm not really sure what I made that night, all I remember is the news. Dad was watching it, too, but I'm not sure he was really paying attention. No, infact… I squinted at his face and saw that he was asleep. I sighed, rubbing my aching head. This was so unfair.

Jerky boss, dumb school, drunk dad, and a sure and impending doom as a superhero. Why was it that every time I returned to this smelly little apartment I was suddenly reminded of everything that was bad? It all piled on top of me like bags of cement, like a huge burden and curse. Earlier in the day, everything seemd under control. Now, it was like the apocalypse. Like everything was sure to add up to my evident demise. Across the room, my Dad grunted and rolled over, dropping his beer can. I rushed over to pick it up, leaving the stove momentarily. None of the beer had spille donto the carpet… not that it mattered. One more stain wasn't going to shange much.

I sighed and returned to cooking, which was nearly finished. After I put it on a platter I returned to my father and shook him around a bit. His pink, small eyes fluttered open, and he blinked drunkly. "Dinner, Dad," I sad loudly enough for my voice to reach his consciousness. It took a couple tries, but he grunted and stood, waddling over to the table. The size of his beer belly was becoming almost obscene. It was hard to even look at him without feeling a stab of disgust, but I hid it as always and handed him his food. I hadn't made any for myself. I wanted to watch the news and head straight for my bed, which was an utterly comforting thought at the time.

That's when the news update came on, reporters yacking excitedly about the arrival of a "new Mew Mew". My stomach leapt. I ran to the monitor, too close to it to be healthy, anxious. Finally they shot some footage a tourist had taken.

The scene looked totally and completely different from how I had remembered. To me, it had all seemed to distant and magical, like nothing could come close to bringing it into reality. But captured on camera, through a lense, it seemed totally real. It was a bit odd, seeing myself. I was hard to see at first, and I couldn't really see what I was doing before I lef ther ground. Once I was up in the air, I looked more impressive. My shrill, agitated voice rang out a battle cry, the bird flapping about a bit aimlessly. By the time the footage was over, I had seen enough. In fact, even think about it made me feel sort of dizzy. I guess I was just feeling very exhausted.

I told my dad to leave his dish in the sink. I skipped my shower and fell asleep on my bed, fully clothed. A few minutes later, my cell phone rang, waking me up again. Moodily, I tumbled off my bed and picked it up. I was now getting used to having odd people call me, and when I checked the caller ID I flinched. I hardly had the guts to answer.

"…What?"

"God, wow. You sound really great."

Back then I hated myself for how his voice made me feel. I made me want to crawl into a little ball and shake and cry. It made me want to teleport through the phone lines and sit in his lap and shake and cry. It made tears come to my eyes in a very literal way. It was the first time talking over the phone with someone made me feel like… well… _that_.

"I'm just tired. What is it, Shirogane-san?"

"Did you see the news?"

"Yeah."

"Well, again, great job. And look…"

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry, okay?"

The usual dull roar started to roll in my ears. Tears pricked the back of my eyelids. I fought to keep my voice straight, and failed.

"O-okay."

"Jesus. You're not crying again, are you?"

"N-no."

"Yes, you are. I'm sorry. I don't mean to treat you like… whatever it was you said."

"A robot?"

He laughed. It made me choke on my tears.

"But I'm serious. You really did do a fine job, robot or not."

I smiled. It was actually nice to know that I was good at this. Or maybe it was just the fact that it had come out of his mouth that it was nice to know. Either way, I was glad to hear it. I was glad to hear his voice.

"Arigato. Um. Shirogane-san…"

"Hm?"

"Why do you keep calling me?"

There was a short silence on the other end, a little uncomfortable silence. It reminded me of a game I used to play when I was on the telephone with someone. I used to challenge myself to guess what expression the person talking to me had on their face. As I grew older, the game got harder to play. At that moment, it was impossible.

"Um. I've only called you once before."

"Oh. Really? I dunno… It somehow seems like… it's been thousands of times. I know that's stupid."

"No. It's not stupid, really."

I sat down on my bed and curled up in a ball, just as I had wanted to. I started to shake. Tears were running down my face, shame staining my cheeks red. All that was left was telephoning through the phone line to sit in his lap, but I knew it was impossible, even for a Mew.

"Shirogane-san."

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry too. I'm sorry I was so rude to you. I tried to _hit_ you, for God's sake."

"From what I can tell, you hit a lot of people."

"It's different," I croaked, my free hand balled into a fist. "You're my boss. And I only hit people I hate." I tried wiping the wetness of my face, but only more came. On the other end, Ryou's voice sounded sort of weird. It sounded like it was wavering a bit, which was uncommon for him, I knew, even though I'd only known him for not even a few days. "That's, uh. Really good to know."

"Shirogane-san…"

"Yeah?"

"He's not my boyfriend. I hate his guts."

"So you've hit him, then?"

I laughed. I wasn't sure what to say, but I told him the truth. "Yeah. I have." He laughed, too. "That's actually pretty funny, when I try to imagine it," he said. "Hey, he got me suspended, though," I informed him. We laughed a bit more, and then it was silent.

"You were right about the gray."

"What?"

"My color, it was gray. Well, mostly. But thanks, anyway. I really like gray. When you told me what you thought, I felt good. It's my favorite color."

"Oh. Really?"

"Yup. What gave you the idea? I remember you saying that… well… it was stupid."

It sounded like he was figuring out whether or not to tell me.

"I don't know. I guess I just though it sort of suited you. You're now quite white, and you're not quite black."

"I think it suits us all, as people. Um. Shirogane-san…"

"Hm?"

"Are you crying?"

"What? No."

"Are you lying?"

There was a long pause.

"Yeah."

---

Wow. Weird little phone call bit there. I'm still pounding my way through writer's block. Obviously, I'm thinking about pairing those two. Ha ha, it just sort of jumped at me! Maybe it'll spice up the story. What do you guys think? Well, it might now be as fun to read, but it's more fun to write, that's for sure! I want to be able to finish a story for once. I have a couple ideas for a couple later bits, but I'm not sure how to get to them.

-NekoBun


	9. School

**Panther Blues**

Ack! Sorry for all the terrible typos and grammar errors in chapter eight! I posted it up around four in the morning… (laugh) I'm such a terrible insomniac, you know? When I stay up that late my memory and brain power fails me miserably… It's really quite annoying… Sumono: Then why do you keep staying up so late? Me: -Shoves Sumono into a closet-

Thankies for the reviews! Mew Kiichigo, thank you for the advice about pairings! I'm still trying to figure out whether or not Sumono belongs with Kichiro or Ryou (laugh). Kichiro is a bit of a dum-dum, and Ryou is really moody (there's a lot of emotion going on already, huh?), so I'm stuck! The hot school mate, or the hot boss? Who will it be? You guys should tell me which you prefer. Honestly, I'm sort of leaning towards Ryou… Help me out! Or will Sumono walk out on her own? The world may never know… Mew Sahara, I thank you especially for all of your reviews! Ahh! It means soooo much, really! (mega-glomps)

In the meantime, here's Sumono's story. Huzzah!

"_The only approval we need to receive is from ourselves. The rest is just reassurance that we're still alive."  
-_Anonymous

**Chapter Nine!**

School the next day was like a trifle nightmarish, much like some deranged Edgar Alan Poe story. Not only was I utterly sleep-deprived, but everyone I knew seemed at liberty to absolutely ignore my very existence. When they weren't, they were talking about me sneakily, as if I were something hideous and refutable, like the mold I once found growing under the bathroom rug. But what did I expect? Did I expect them to run up to me and give me hugs and kisses, saying, "Welcome back, we missed you"?

This was typical after a fight. Everyone avoids you like the plague, like you're some kind of evil bully. Only, this time it was different. It was worse. The last time I had punched someone, it was a freak trying to feel up Namiko's skirt. That at least had been somewhat heroic. But this time, it was a crime. A sin. I had burned any possible chance to win back a place on the social ladder. And all because the person I had harmed was the god of everything at our high school - he nearly owned everyone's soul. What he did, they did. What he said, they said. Whether they were aware of it or not, they were incapable of understanding individuality. Whether they were aware of it or not, they were all attached to little strings, being pulled by the wrathful fingers of Kichiro Takamine. It puzzled me how such a bum could be so powerful.

I took my usual seat a couple rows back from the front right corner, looking around for Namiko. I guess she hadn't arrived yet; once she did, I would explain to her why Kichiro wanted my phone number. _Only to apologize._ Namiko worshipped the ground Kichiro walked on… I didn't want her thinking he and I were getting close, or anything. She would hate me, being the touchy type. I really, really hate to say it, but the chances of she and Kichiro ever getting anywhere was, like… none. She was just another fan girl, really, as much as I loved her.

Students began trickling in through the doors, all averting their eyes from me, carrying on with everything as if I didn't concern them in any way. I'm wasn't popular, no, but I did have a couple friends. People usually greeted me in the morning. Now, they strode on past me, my presence that of a ghost. I kept my eyes on my desk and pulled out my notebook, doodling my name across the cover a couple times, and then flipping it open. I sketched out a few aimless figures, and then started to seriously sketch out the image of a face, adding in some eyes, a nose, lips, hair… When I was done I found my own two eyes staring back at me from the paper - my own two iceberg-blue eyes. It was a bit peculiar, seeing myself again with blue eyes, bit I like it at the same time. It seemed more interesting than brown eyes…

"Sumono."

I looked up and saw just the face I was hoping for, and I smiled. "Morning!" I told my dear friend, but she didn't reply. She had her hands on her hips and was looking down at me expectantly. I played dumb.

"What is it?"

"What did Kichiro-kun say when he called you?"

There went my opportunity to explain. She already seemed miffed, and I hadn't even begun. "He wanted to apologize, he said," I told her, trying to make it sound totally lame. She still looked suspicious. "And?" I blinked. "And what?" I asked, though I knew exactly what.

"And then what? Was that all he did?"

I looked down. "Um."

"What? What did he say? _Do_?"

"He bought me coffee. But that's all. That was it."

Her jaw fell to the floor. "What the heck do you mean, 'that was it'?" You're lucky he even thought to _speak _to you!" Ouch. I controlled my annoyance. Namiko kept going. "What did you do, make him take you out, or something?" _My_ jaw fell to the floor. Like I would ever! "What? No! He asked me! I don't _like_ him, for God's sake! I _punched _him, remember?" She squinted at me. "Yeah, whatever. So, what did you, that is, do… together?"

"We went to this coffee place, got lattes and then sat around. Okay? Nothing exciting whatsoever."

Except for the fact that a giant bird attacked us, but I guessed that was a little off-topic.

"Are you sure?"

Her lip was pouting out like she really, really hoped I was telling the truth. And I was. I just wasn't telling the _whole_ truth. "I'm absolutely positive," I said. She smiled a little. "Okay. So there's nothing… going on… between you two?" She sounded pressing and urgent. Like we were friends. Like we were more than friends. The very idea turned my stomach… I hated Kichiro, and everybody knew so. Why was she so antsy? I just shook my head. "Nope. Nothing." Suddenly satisfied, she grinned plopped down in the chair to my left.

I tell you, girls are such bizarre creatures.

More and more students poured in through the doors, each filling up seats one by one. Okuda-sensei came in, too, as the seats were filling up, and I did my best to keep my gaze from meeting his. No doubt any liking towards me he once had was shattered now, too. He didn't notice me. I turned the page of my notebook to a blank one, sighing and slumping. I rested my head in my folded arms, grogginess claiming every part of me. I was just drifting off into sleep, when…

"Yo, Kobayashi!"

I grunted, startled, and looked up. Who could be greeting me, especially during a time like this? Dazed, I blinked, and looked around. Soon enough I found myself gazing into two huge chocolate pies, and my stomach dropped. You guessed it.

Kichiro gave a little wave and crashed down in the chair to my right, as if we were life-long buddies. What was he doing? Was this a joke? I gave him a very evidently annoyed look, but he just smiled dumbly at me. I suppressed a groan. Namiko, of course, shot me a very venomous look that clearly was screaming, "Liar!" My heart sank. All the girls in the room (every one, and it's no lie. Each and every one of them had a thing for Kichiro) all stared at me, dumb-struck, angry, envious. I buried my face in my hands. What in hell was he _doing_? Did he enjoy screwing up every fragile balance in life I was striving to uphold? He was totally jeopardizing any friendly relationship I wanted to keep established with Namiko, not to mention embarrassing the crap out of me.

If for some reason you are not aware of how school life works, I'll take this moment to explain. High school is a very complex ladder of many different ropes. Whichever rope you land on, you belong. You may not climb any higher than the rope you stand on, at least, not easily. It takes a couple miracles. Climbing lower is easy, but very painful. The bottom wrung of rope is the drug-abused folks; the middle wrung is ugly smart people; the top wrung is the preps and jocks. It has worked this way since the ancient Egyptians, and I really don't expect it to change soon.

Jocks and outcasts to not mingle - they simply coexist, not bothering to disturb each other, or else they will upset this very fragile balance that has been maintained for centuries. If you are to switch over to the other side - to climb higher on the ladder - say, for you (an anime fan) to become popular, you must do so gradually through small, slight acts that will become known around school.

Anyway, back to Kichiro and I: Jocks did not say "yo" to poor outcasts in the morning. Jocks did not _wave _at said outcasts. Jocks did not sit next to them, associate with them, or even become aware of their existence, unless through very unlikely coincidence or fault. Otherwise, it just wasn't right. Or normal. Because then, the poor outcast receives much more attention than she would like, and loses all of her friends, who are replaced by newer, shinier, richer ones. Usually not a very easy thing to cope with.

But there he was. Sitting next to me. And, okay, Kichiro has sat next to me several times before. But never out of choice.

It wasn't like the whole world had stopped to observe the fact like Kichiro had sat down next to me, but I _knew _they were all watching a little. The chatter had quieted ever so slightly, the atmosphere changed a bit. _Maybe it really is just a coincidence_, I thought desperately, and looked away from him. I shot a terrified look at Namiko, and she responded with a set of very raised eyebrows, as if she didn't quite believe I was terrified of Kichiro's actions. But I was. I really _was_.

"So, how did the rest of your day go yesterday?" Kichiro asked me. I could feel my eyeballs eroding from their sockets with the tension. I swallowed. He was speaking to me. In front of everyone. They were all observing this on the sly, taking little glances to where we sat. Had he gone _insane_? Had he taken an ailment to the head? I though that after the latte, everything would be back to normal, didn't I? Well, I was wrong! I swallowed again. This was _no_ coincidence. I could barely bring myself to answer, my throat was so dry.

"Um. It was all right."

_Insult me. Say something rude. Make me mad. Quit acting like we're friends! _

"Did you happen to see the news? I was on the news!"

"No, I didn't."

The rest of the class continued this way. Namiko wouldn't look at me - she was probably pissed beyond comprehension - and girls kept taking these sly little glances from the sides, leaning over to whisper to others. God knows what they were saying about me. To make it worse, Kichiro wouldn't stop acting like I existed. I was _scary_. My face was beet red the entire time, my eyes on my desk, trying my hardest to make it seem like it was a coincidence. It didn't work, of course. Even Okuda-sensei seemed to notice, although I suspect he only was glad we had "made up" okay.

Yes, the class passed by gruelingly slow. The kids were making silent judgments in their minds, I knew they were. Kids always do. I wished I could read their thoughts. I wished I could send telepathic messages to their brains, telling them that I still absolutely hated Kichiro Takamine. With all my soul. I didn't care if I was hated for hating him. It was so much more comfortable than being thought about… you know, in _that_ way.

Hours… _hours… _passed by as if they were millenniums. My concentration faltered periodically. Many times I attempted to pass Namiko a few furiously-scribbled notes, trying to explain the circumstance, but she wouldn't take them. When I tossed them at her, she ignored them pointedly. It stung my heart a little, more than I had expected it to. Was Kichiro really that important to her? The class continued on in icy lonesomeness. I was called up to the board several times, and I could feel eighty beady eyes digging slowly into the back of my head. Subject after subject, my heart pounding, I waited for lunch. (NekoBun: If I have been informed correctly, Japanese high school classes take all or most of their subjects in one room. Am I correct? Ahhh!)

The bell finally rang for lunch. My breath, which I had been holding nervously as I watched the seconds hand on the clock tick by, came rushing out in relief, and I scooped up my books and flew out of the room, panting frantically. I had planned to go to the back of the campus and hide out to eat my lunch. I was fleeing like a half-mad prisoner of war. _It's okay. It's okay. _

Alas, all was not okay. Namiko strode up to me cattishly, her little coppery curls bouncing with the edge in her step. This walk is commonly known as, "the bitch gate", and in other words, she was pissed. Even if you didn't know the bitch gate, you would have been able to tell; her anger was written all over her face. After Namiko trailed a couple of girls in our class, whom I recognized faintly. They all looked like they had joined forces to gang up together and interrogate me about Kichiro's sudden friendliness to me. After all, who was I to be noticed? How dare I have Kichiro's attention drawn towards me? I swear to you, it's like they thought they owned that guy.

"What the hell was _that_?"

Namiko's voice was even angrier than her face was. She was practically snarling at me, as if I were lower than dirt, when the truth is, I'm a couple inches taller than she is. "You told me there was nothing going on between you two!" I tried to open my mouth and explain, but the girl on Namiko's left said in a low voice, "And don't you tell us it's some coincidence, because that's bullshit. He actually _talked_ to you." She was snotty, short and terrifyingly bony, with a look on her face that sort of reminded me of a rabid poodle.

I held up my hands. "Why are you guys acting like I've broken some honorable law all of the sudden?"

"Because you have, practically. You know what you've done."

That had been the girl on Namiko's right. She was tall, curvy and sophisticated-looking, with long, cinnamon-colored hair spilling down her back (dyed, of course). Of course I knew who she was. Yumi Yamada, one of the most slutty, popular girls in the entire school, two grades ahead of me, was standing there snarling at me like I was a life-long friend who had gone and stabbed her in the back. I had never even spoken to the girl before, but there she was. Instead of a poodle, she looked more like a Doberman pincher, ready to pounce.

"I don't really care about your dumb laws," I said. I was surprised at how cooly I told the lie, for it sounded as if I believed it. And I always thought I hadn't cared - until now. Until I got the opposite sex dragged into it. Namiko barked, "So, that means that you were lying when you said you aren't going steady with Kichiro!"

"Who the hell told you we were going steady? It's a goddamn rumor!"

"I don't care. It sure seems like it's a _true_ one."

"It's not! Drinking coffee with somebody doesn't make him your soul mate!"

Yumi came closer and gave me this detestable, devilish smile that looked gorgeous and hideous at the same time. "We don't give a shit whether or not you went out on a fun little date with him. We just want you to swear on all that is holy that you'll keep your dirty hands off of him." Then the poodle advanced on me, too. "Don't you even come near him," she said, nearly whispering. "Don't you even look at him." She was two inches away from my face, unexpectedly sour breath choking me. "We don't want uncivilized tramps like you polluting Takamine's air."

"I am not a tramp," I growled, my face hot. It felt like the panther in me was starting to kick in. How could she even dare to say that to my face? "If you're going to insult me, do me the courtesy of doing it behind my back. I'm not interested in that stupid Takamine in any way, shape, or form, got it?" I gave the poodle a dangerous look in the eye, and she stepped away a bit. Namiko just waved her hand around and said, "Please, Sumono, honey, don't lie to us ever again. It's only going to get you into more trouble. I would really hate to see you get expelled." "Yes," Yumi chimed in. "It would be a shame."

"I am _not_ lying!"

"Oh, whatever. Stop being such a bitch, already. You get angry too easily, and it's really annoying."

I'm not sure exactly what happened after that. All I know it that usually when people tell me to stop being mad, it only makes me madder. I also know that somehow, it was much, much different in this one scene. The heat in my face was more intense than ever, and there were small, watery tears forming in my eyes. With my anger, I didn't shout. My voice was quiet, rock-hard, angled. It sounded livid and controlled at once, and I must say… it sounded very powerful.

"Go away," I told them. It was really all I wanted them to do. "Get away from me this instant. If you really do find me so annoying, you wouldn't be hanging around me like the plague, would you?"

"We--"

"Go on. Get away from me, would you, please? Or are you just _stupid_?"

"I am not --"

"Oh, I really think you are. Otherwise it would be very easy."

"Why don't _you _move, then, honey?"

"No. I won't."

It might have been pride, I guess. Or maybe the fact that Namiko had called me "honey" (for the second time), which was a name not even my dad or teachers had ever used on me. I wasn't her honey. I was nobody's honey. I was myself, and I was telling her to leave me be. Her mouth just sort of opened and closed a couple times. She looked positively miffed. "Good God! You're so stubborn!"

"Yes, I know. Now please go."

And they did. The three of them just gave me a really disgusted face and walked away, leaving me by myself, just as I had wanted. All it had taken was some well-executed force, a force which had not involved violence or rage. I was surprised by myself. _Struggles and anger is only a part of what it could be. _Where had I heard that?

Pushing the matter aside, I took my lunch outside and headed out to a tree to eat alone. Crouching, I dug through my lunchbox for all the meat I could find, tossing away the vegetables. Who needed them, anyway? I was pretty sure, at this point, that nobody would care if I died of scurvy.

"Hey, Kobayashi! Eating all alone?"

My newly refined hearing picked up the jolly shout from across the acre, where I looked up to find just who I had dreaded it to be. No, no! Why was this happening? Why me? Quickly, I attempted to pack up my lunch back into its box, trying to make it seem eaten. "I was just finishing, actually," I called back nervously, and tried to stand up. Kichiro was still advancing, and soon enough he was plopped down right next to me, holding a western-style hamburger. My stomach dropped.

"Why are you _doing_ this?"

He just turned his big eyes on me and gave me one of his weird clueless looks. For the most adored person in school, he was pretty idiotic. Either that, or he was just playing dumb to piss me off.

"Don't you look at me like that! You know what you're doing!"

Kichiro took a huge bite out of his hamburger, processing it all the way through before he spoke. "Why can't I do what I'm doing?" he wanted to know. "What's the big deal?"

"You _know_! This is completely weird! Unnatural!"

"I thought you didn't care about what other people thought about you," he said simply. He had a point. "Oh, whatever! That was _back when_!" I cried, waving my arms around frantically. If anyone were to see us…

"Back when what?"

"Oh, come on. When I hated you!"

Aw, shit. That came out wrong. Kichiro threw this huge, flashy smile on me and said, "Oh, so now you _don't_ hate me?" I could feel the color coming into my face. "Forget it," I barked. "Just forget it!" But he didn't. Kichiro jumped to his feet and thrust his finger at me. "You don't hate me!" he screamed in delight. He was like a little kid. I crossed my arms. "Shut up, would you? What if somebody hears?" He only giggled.

I couldn't believe it. He was like a totally different person. He didn't seem anything like the Takamine I had hated so pointedly just days before. The dumb, rude, ignorant freak I had become positively livid with. Well, yeah. He was still dumb, rude and ignorant… but in a different way. In the way that a small child is, rather than a young man. I was drifting in the twilight zone. I, Sumono Kobayashi, was sitting around with the dearly beloved Kichiro Takamine during lunchtime, as if it were perfectly normal.

"Don't you realize what you're doing?" I asked him. He looked at me curiously. "You're risking everything you have at this school. You're crushing all of my friendships, too, just by sitting by me. And you seem fine with it. I don't get it." He just laughed. "You know, just yesterday I was asking you all of the same questions, and you had all of the answers," he said, his voice amused. I blinked, remembering how he had questioned me blindly over a latte. Had I really stooped to his level? Was I really that dumb?

My terror must have showed on my face, because he nodded knowingly. "Ah, now you get it. See, I've done some thinking about what you said," he told me, leaning up against the tree, "and I think you're actually right. Life is too short to please people I don't even like."

_Whaaatt_? "Don't even like"? What the hell was he talking about? Being popular was all Kichiro had to live on. It was the air he breathed. He loved it. Everything he did relied on his impression on the school. Everyone knew who he was, and it seemed to be where he belonged. Now, suddenly, he was totally and completely different! I sensed no uptightness, no superiority complex. I gaped at him, shocked to the bone.

"You're shitting me," I whispered. He frowned. "Why are you always so crude? So unlike a lady," he remarked. My mouth hung ajar still. "Do you mean you're going to stop caring? Just like that? You're going to give it up?" I was so surprised I couldn't even get the words out. He grinned. "I already have. And anyway, I'm only experimenting. If I don't like this whole 'individuality' thing of yours, I'm going to snap right back." I shook my head wildly. "Have you gone _mad_? You can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"_Why_? You're the most popular guy in the entire flipping school and you're asking me _why_?"

"Well, beside the obvious facts that nobody will ever speak to me and I'll be forever regarded as a total outcast and spineless bastard, why not?"

Livid, I got up. He really couldn't be serious. If he was, I would tell him why he couldn't.

"You want to know why? Well, the reason is this: today, after class, I nearly got skinned alive by my beast friend for having a social life that involved you! That's why! If you become a part of the level of popularity I am involved with, my friends will think it's my fault. They'll hate me. Kichiro, I like my friends. I don't want them to hate me!"

"If they're truly your friends, they'll leave you be," he said, shrugging. "And plus, it _is_ your fault, sort of." I gaped. "You can't blame this on me! She'll tear my eyes out and fry them!"

"Who is 'she'?"

"Oh, come on. Namiko."

He raised his eyebrows. "Your freckled friend? She doesn't seem like the type. She's, like, shy." I couldn't help but laugh. "_Shy_? Right! Only around you!" He sort of squinted at me, confused. "Why me?" he asked.

_What? _What did he just say?

I searched his voice for some kind of giveaway for dishonesty, for jest, but none was present. He was totally serious. He genuinely had no idea why Namiko - or any other girl, for that matter - was shy around him! Where had the egomaniacal jock gone? Was he on vacation, or something, replaced by his docile little brother? If this were the real Kichiro, he would have puffed up his chest and said something like, "I wouldn't be interested in a stupid, slutty nobody." But no! He didn't even know who he was any more!

"Takamine, what have you done to yourself?"

I was given an even more confused look in return. "Why is she shy around me?" he asked again, eyebrows knitted together seriously. Astonished, I rose to my feet. I thrust my index finger into his chest. "Look, this really isn't funny," I said in s low voice. "You're going to destroy yourself if you keep this up. If not you, then me. I'll be left by my lonesome with my stupid dad."

"Why? I just want to know!"

"Because she _likes_ you, you idiot! Every girl who walks the earth is in bloody freaking _love _with you!"

Kichiro just sort of blinked at me, his face unreadable. "Every girl, huh?"

"Yeah, pretty much. You honestly didn't know?"

"What about you?"

My face turned red again.

"Um. Sorry, every girl except me. I'm not even a girl, remember? I'm a crude outcast. Okay?"

His face remained blank. "Okay."

-

Soon after, the bell rang for class to resume. I screamed and chucked the rest of my food into my lunch box, running at full speed to the school building. Kichiro trailed after in the caboose. From behind, he whistled. "Damn. You're fast." I ignored him, knowing it wasn't me at all. It was my bloody panther genes…

I made myself that I would avoid him for the rest of the day. There was no way I could even face him with Namiko and her two little new groupies eyeing me every moment of the day, I couldn't risk it even if I wanted to. I was still shocked to the bone, and every now and then I had to shake my head around to stop thinking about the fact that Kichiro was giving up. He seriously wasn't himself anymore. He was… human. It was odd. The more human he was, the more panther-like I was. It was like my humanity was lost in the wind.

I was reminded even further of my true identity as a Mew when my cell phone rang halfway through one of Okuda-sensei's long, grueling lectures. He stopped short in his sentence and shot me a very, very upset look and said sternly, "Miss Kobayashi, I hope you are aware that the use of cell phones during class is strictly prohibited." I nodded obediently and said, "I'm sorry, sir. I wasn't aware that it was turned on," and switched the thing off.

In my mind, I was screaming. The caller ID was Ryou's. Something was wrong.

---

Well, that's the end of chapter nine! Thank you for everything! Sorry the chapter took that long to put up… ha ha… Well, what do you guys think? Ryou or Kichiro? Or neither?

-NekoBun

p.s. School is nearly started, so once it's August 16, I may be posting a little less, reason being homework. Ahh! My school gives way too much homework! It's positively evil, I tell you!


	10. Opposites

**Panther Blues**

Urgh… I'm forever in the debt of the reader for being so bloody irresponsible these days… can you believe I haven't written since the summer? I sure can't! Gosh! Still, I promised that I would finish this story, and I usually keep my promises. Ooh, ooh, guess what? A decision has been made about pairings! I'm not going to tell you what it is, but it'll probably get rather obvious as the story progresses.

Again, THANK YOU THANK YOU for the lovely reviews! Mew Xanthera: I don't have a DeviantART account, but I do have a "fan art central" account, under which my screen name is "PsychoLuckie". I don't have any pictures of Sumono yet… maybe I'll post some up… But first I have to finish the huge debt of requests I've got piling up… xD (cough) Well, here's Sumono's story.

"_When you look at yourself from a universal standpoint, something inside always reminds or informs you that there are bigger and better things to worry about."  
_-Albert Einstein

**Chapter Ten!**

I waited until at least a minute had passed before raising my hand. I only waited for that long because it was all I could stand without doing something drastic. Any more than a minute and surely I would be forced to rocket from my seat and physically run out of the school building, without being at least a bit stealthy about it. Sweating, I watch as the hands on the clock move at the speed of a snail, mentally urging them to move faster. Faster! _Tick, tock… fifty-eight seconds… tick, tock… Sixty seconds. Bam._

_Now. _

My hand shot up. Okuda-sensei's eyes slowly raised from the book he was reading aloud, an unfathomably annoyed expression crossing his face. Clearing his throat, he managed to croak, "Yes, Miss Kobayashi?" The way he said my name made it sound like some sort of despicable disease, something that should not be sounded aloud. I attempted to look innocent.

"Okuda-sensei, could I please use the restroom?"

I then felt a mass of eyes prodding into various parts of my body; Namiko's angry black eyes, Kichiro's huge chocolate-pie eyes, and many others. Okuda-sensei looked at me with the utmost disregard, one eyebrow tweaked in slight suspicion. His face displayed a simple message: no. He was going to refuse my request to the toilet. He didn't trust my motives. But then, slowly, it changed. His stony expression turned weaker, showing a hint of defeat. His eyes were irritated. Aha! I had him. He couldn't say no. He couldn't say no, because I was girl… and heaven knows, what I could be wanting to use the bathroom for?

"Okay. But be quick about it."

I rose, taking my small handbag with me, and exited, trying not to seem too rushed. However, once I was safely away from the classroom, I broke out into an all-out beeline down the lengthy hallway for my destination. I sprinted to the bathroom, flying down the halls, feeling my adrenaline briefly pulsate throughout my body, heart racing. I dashed until I came skittering to an ungraceful crash into the door of the girls' bathroom, flinging the it open and hastily disappearing behind a stall. Sitting on a closed toilet lid, I dug around in my bad for my cell phone, switched it on, and dialed his number. The tone only sounded for about a quarter of a second before I heard the opposite end pick up, a familiarly low, wonderful voice anxiously answering.

"Why didn't you pick up?"

"I'm sorry. I'm not allowed to use cell phones during school hours. What's up?"

"It's an emergency."

"That much I figured… Are details an option?"

"Not now. Be at the café as fast as possible."

"Ano… It's halfway across town, Shirogane-san."

His voice was urgent and pressing. "I don't care! Figure it out."

"But I can't just _leave. _I've already been suspended. I'll get kicked out for good. I need an official excuse to get out."

"Like what?"

"Like a parent phone call, or a doctor's appointment."

"Right. You've got a dad, right?"

"Yeah, so? He'll never call in for me. At least, not at a time like this. He's probably still hung over."

"Okay, fine. _I_ will. I'll pretend to be your dad."

I laughed out loud, unable to suppress myself. The thought of Ryou, young, fresh and in perfect health, trying to be my _dad_ was totally ridiculous. So much in fact that I felt compelled to inform him of this. "That's insane, sir," I told him, giggling mindlessly. He didn't seem to be in the mood to be told this, because he snapped, "Do you trust me or not?" Almost immediately, I stopped giggling.

"I trust you."

"That's a good girl. Now, give me your school's office number."

I took a moment to remember it, but I told him.

"Thanks. Where the heck _are_ you, anyway?"

"The bathroom."

"Ha! Get out of there before people start thinking you're constipated. I'll be seeing you shortly."

I ignored the constipation remark. "Okay… Are you sure you know what you're doing?

"For God's sake, just get down here quickly!"

"All right, already! Ja ne."

"Ja ne."

I hung up, hurriedly sticking my phone back in my bag, unlocking the stall door. Just then, my heart went into frenzied, jolting _thumps_, leaping from my chest and into my throat, choking me. I nearly slammed right into her, I was so surprised. Yumi Yamada, the Doberman pincher, stood there with her hands on her hips, looking particularly peeved. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

"Peeing," I responded flatly. Yumi's face darkened with rage. "Don't lie to me! Going somewhere, then?" "Back to class." And really, I was, technically. I made an attempt to push past her, but she didn't move. What was she trying to do, anyway? Pick a fight on a little freshman? "Tell the damn truth," she growled. Every moment that passed further impressed the image of a man-eating dog into my mind.

"Please get out of my way."

"Where are you headed? Karaoke bar? Hotel room?"

At first, I had the familiar rush of blood to the face, the almost untamable instinct to hit her. But somehow, I held fast onto my hatred, rather than unleashing it. No fighting, no fighting, no fighting, I chanted to myself in my head, battling off my brutish impulses. I stared her straight in the eye. What was she trying to say? What was she trying to bloody _say_? Was she _suggesting_ something? Ooh, what a bitch. If only I could bend her face. If only.

I chose not to answer. I thrust my shoulder into hers, forcing out of the opening of the stall. She was taller than I was, and probably more athletic, but I managed to get through the menacing shield of her body. Yumi was surprisingly flexible to this, I discovered. She didn't stop me. She did, however, snarl a rather profane remark under her breath. It took double the effort to ignore this, but I opened the door of the bathroom and left with nothing more than a glance over my shoulder. I used the matter at hand - this said _emergency_ of Ryou's - to distract me.

I tried to walk normally back down the hall, but as I am not a naturally patient person, after about 10 seconds I broke out at full speed. When I was a few yards from the classroom I stopped and regained my breath before I went in. When I had, I took my seat silently, feeling all those eyes devouring me with their unrelenting pupils. I pretended to be interested in Okuda-sensei's ongoing sermon of history. Then I waited. I waited for something. Anything. The very thought of being able to free myself from this God-forsaken hole-in-the-ground of school (even to fight crime) was overwhelming. I had to get out. _Get me out, Shirogane-san. _

I impatiently tapped my desk with a pencil, my foot wagging like a dog's tail under the desk. I hated this, watching the time pass like watching the grass grow. It was fraying the ribbons of my sanity, or whatever sanity I had left… _Get me out, Shirogane-san. _

Okuda-sensei droned on endlessly, scrawling useless facts about fascism on the board. Great. Wanted to live in a fascist lifestyle? All you had to do is go to school, really. I already knew about unfair dictators and corrupt governments. I had already _experienced_ it.

_Rescue me, Shirogane-san. _

_Rescue me. _I closed my eyes.

-

When the heavenly chime of the intercom sounded, I nearly leapt out of my chair. Okuda-sensei stopped spouting logistics momentarily to listen to the office woman crow out her message: "Kobayashi Sumono-san, you are excused from school for a dentist appointment. Repeat, Kobayashi Sumono-san, you are to leave for a dentist appointment immediately. Thank you."

The ending dial tone sounded. I almost let my jaw drop to my collar bone. He had done it! However had he managed to get away with acting as my father? It almost seemed surreal. The teacher practically glared at me as I stood and shoved my text books into my school bag and rounded up my other possessions, now clearly not bothering to hide my haste to be rid of the classroom. I had to hurry, hurry… When I finally had all my belongings in order, I practically stampeded out the door, leaving a very unsettled classroom behind. I flew to the shoe lockers, snagged my shoes and shoved them violently onto my feet, and then sprinted down a stairwell or two and crashed through the front doors of my high school. Hurry, hurry!

Halfway down the road my panther genes began to replace my human ones, the animalistic quality of efficient speed streaming into my legs, which carried me faster than I had thought possible. I was _zooming, _practically. Like some sort of demon-possessed track runner set loose from the psych hospital, I sprinted insanely, gusts of air blowing my hair back. My eyes were watering. Random pedestrians stopped and stared at the sight of my absurdly quick procession. The afternoon city around me was a lighted blur. The sidewalk flew beneath me as I stormed through the tangled maze of citizens loitering around and obstructing my path. My feet were moving like two machine-operated pendulums hammering the ground with every step, working solely on their own. My breath was chased in and out of my lungs at a threatening rate, my heart a kettle drum pounding on and on. I had never run so fast in my life. Adrenaline was sweeping me off my feet. Oh, what a glorious feeling…

The train station came up to me so quickly that I passed it up before I even recognized it. I had to skid to a halt at a juice vender before swiveling around and dashing back to the train station stairs. It was the fastest way to get to the café, I told myself. I would run out of energy before getting there on foot. Scampering down the steps to the underground, I must have knocked down at least three people, who bellowed angrily at my rudeness. "Sumimasen!" I screamed back at them, breathless. I swerved to a stop at the mouth of the train tracks, standing on the edge of the drop-off, panting wildly. I could feel my very heart leaping in exhilaration within my chest, threatening to burst through my ribcage. Somehow, despite the fact that I was huffing like an old steam engine, I felt happy. Fulfilled.

Then, I had to wait again, for a train that headed to the area that the café was in. Not for very long, but it was waiting all the same. I tapped my foot and watched the giant clock on the station wall, trying to find a way to get the time to pass faster. It was impossible to manipulate time, I knew, unless I were to abolish it completely. Which wasn't really an option at that moment.

People from the trains milled around me mindlessly, most of them chattering away on their cell phones or talking to one another. They spilled from down the stairs and from the sides of doors, some arriving from the long metal chains that squealed and sparked like robotic snakes tied down to a path. The crowd pushed past me and jostled me all around, seeming not to notice. Some of them gave me funny looks, more than likely wondering if I was skipping school as they eyed my obvious school uniform. I tried to keep a low profile, even if I had only previously appeared in the station like a wild horse trapped in someone's living room.

I sucked in a long breath and held it to slow my heart rate. After some time, my train slowly pulled to a stop, metal parts whining under the pressure of the gaggle of people riding within them. The doors jerked open and the people inside poured out, a thousand black-haired heads gradually dispersing off into different directions. When at last I could take a seat on the train I let my breath out, trying to think clearly. The train gradually overcrowded with Tokyo-dwellers and became hot. I fanned myself with my hand and pulled out a handkerchief to cover my mouth and nose. When the cabins were all packed, the train's doors slid shut and the train lurched forward, speeding off into the dark tunnel.

It was only a little while after it came to a standstill at the district of town I was destined for. I thrust myself through the train doors and escaped the densely packed train station as quickly as possible. I then started to run again, and just as before, it was as though I were flying through the concrete. I had reached the park soon enough, and shot down the paths like a bullet, passing up the science museum and dragging myself up a mountainous hill, before, finally…

There it was! I literally crashed through the towering pink rhinestone-encrusted front doors and toppled onto the clean, tiled floor, nearly sobbing with relief, only hoping that it wasn't too late. Apparently, the café didn't have any business that day, and I assumed Keiichiro had closed up shop to make it all more convenient. For that I thanked him mentally; I couldn't afford tripping onto restaurant floors in front of a bunch of diners. I shook my head around and stood, quickly walked to the back room, bashing the door open with a colossal _boom_!

I walked around a monumental bookshelf, still struggling to regain my breath. It raced in and out, the pale noise seeming to echo against the cavern of gears and scientific materials.

Ryou was there, sitting by his computer as always, typing furiously. The idiot was so engulfed into what he was doing he didn't even notice my raucous entrance. He was murmuring to himself in an upset tone, forming the words so quickly that it was impossible to tell what he was saying. I approached him carefully. He didn't look up until I decided to make my footsteps readily audible.

His head snapped away from the monitor, blue eyes nearly bloodshot. "Oh. Good."

"What the hell happened to _you_?" I commented sarcastically when I could breathe again. Instead of answering, he turned and shouted over his shoulder, "GIIIRLS!" And within a moment or two, the rest of the team came out from behind the tens of shelves and piles of machinery. They looked anxious, and surrounded me at once. "What's going on, exactly?" I asked Ichigo cautiously, assuming she would know, seeing as she was the leader, and all. But she shook her head, red hair swaying.

"I don't know. We only just got here ourselves. He hasn't told us yet. He just keeps sitting there, talking to himself…"

Lettuce anxiously rubbed her palms together. "If he's going into shock, it must be really terrible, right?" Her huge, sparkling eyes reflected her sweet and genuine concern. Mint rested a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry," she said. "He's always been a bit of a drama queen. Ryou overreacts a lot." Mint's unsteady voice betrayed the mask of her sure and confident face. Behind her Zakuro seemed to be agreeing - in silence, naturally. Her stony dark eyes penetrated the distance in thought. Clinging to Ichigo's leg was little Pudding, grasping on as if she was afraid of the floor beneath her. For a moment her gigantic golden-amber eyes met mine, and they quivered with uncertainty. I smiled at her, self-conscious. Her eyes were like two mirrors, and I could see my pale face swimming in her pupils. A plain reflection, with dark hair and eyes and two parted lips, breathing, staring back like a ghost. Who _was _that girl?

I tore my eyes away from hers and decided to try and communicate with Ryou, who was still furiously staring at the computer screen with glazed eyes. "Shirogane-san," I said softly. He didn't turn to me, his eyes fastened to the glow of the monitor, lips moving and forming silent sentences. He looked like he was positively shocked, ram racked. "Shirogane-san," I probed. No response. I dug my finger into his side and cried out his name once again, my voice projecting sharply. He yelped and leapt a foot off his chair and crashed onto the hard floor. A couple of the girls tittered quietly as Ryou stood and regained his composure, shining blonde hair disheveled and flopping aimlessly. Despite his ungraceful awakening, he looked like an insanely good-looking genius disturbed from his research (quite literally). Finally he spoke coherently, "I am _not _going into shock, and I am _not _dramatic." This only made the girls laugh harder. Even Zakuro smiled in amusement.

"Then what are you?" I said. He smiled nervously. "Scared," he replied simply, and gestured to the monitor on the crowded desk. Right on queue, we all leaned in to see what was on it that was frightening him so. There were a few long lists of DNA references, a graph illustrated in glowing green squares, and miles of unintelligible numbers and brackets. I raised my eyebrows. "Sorry, I don't read leet," I said. "It's not leet, for Jesus' sake," Ryou responded irritably. "It's coding. Do you know what this _means_?" He referenced to a highlighted section of the text. We all shook our heads. "It's very bad news," he said, his voice dropping in volume. "_Very_ bad news." Mint clucked her tongue. "Are you going to tell us, or what?" she demanded sourly.

"Well, I don't know. I mean, it might all be a big fluke. A mistake."

"Try your hardest," I said, trying to sound encouraging. He still looked unsure. "If… if I'm not just making a mistake…" "Just tell us," Ichigo whined. Ryou sighed hugely and rubbed his temples. "Sumono-chan," (I blushed spontaneously at the sound of him saying my first name like that) "Have you heard of the absolutes property?" he asked. I thought for a second, perplexed. "No," I admitted. It sounded like science, which I wasn't very gifted in. "Well, I'll explain it," he said. "In the figurative world, the spiritual world, everything has an opposite. I mean, _everything. _Love has hate. Peace has disturbance. And so on." I nodded. "Whether it's a good or a bad thing that is created first, sooner or later another thing comes along that completely contradicts it. Every time a new abstract quality comes into the making, so does its opposite, its opposing force. Now, just consider this for a moment."

I considered it.

"When the aliens first came to earth, what happened?" Ryou asked, like he was a professor quizzing his class. "There was terror," Lettuce answered shyly. Ryou nodded. "Yes. What do people tend to do, eventually, when there is terror about them?" "Scream?" Pudding guessed from behind Ichigo's leg. "They find a way to defend themselves," I answered automatically. Ryou pointed at me, wagging his finger around. "Very good. With the tyranny that the aliens brought to earth, what rose against them?" "Your experiments," Ichigo answered.

"And what was the purpose of my experiments?"

I smiled.

"Justice."

"Correct. That's very good. The opposite of tyranny is justice. And so, when bad is impressed upon the earth, so is good. It may not take form immediately, but it's still there. It may not be active, but it's still there. In the world of theory, there are _always _opposites."

That's when Ryou turned his sapphire-blue, probing stones of eyes on me. They were burning holes into mine like hot irons. "Sumono-chan," he said, repeating my name. I felt a tingle somewhere in my body. "When you became a Mew Mew, you created the opportunity of justice. Because you have previously used that for good when you were fighting a Kirema Anima, what exactly do think is going to appear to oppose you?"

My heart sank in my chest. I was justice.

And I had an _opposite_ coming for me.

Again, Ryou read my face like an open book, understanding what I was thinking. He nodded in an all-knowing way. "So now you know why I'm terrified," he said softly, his tone enchanting and intense. His face must have been just inches from mine. I almost couldn't manage tearing my eyes away from his angel's face. There was something so enigmatic about him, something entirely other-worldly that I couldn't help but stare, my train of thought dissolving into bubbles there in front of my new team members. I cleared my throat to break the sudden uncomfortable silence, at last averting my eyes. At once my face was red.

"How does this apply to terms of science?" I wondered aloud, trying to ask a reasonable question, keeping my vision on the ceiling. Ryou backed away from me a slight distance, featured disturbed by a delicious pink coloring in his cheekbones. "That's what I was getting to, I suppose. Listen, everyone," he said to the Mews, who for some reason… especially Ichigo… were red in the face. Pudding was laughing into Ichigo's calf, the muffled sound high and hysterically cute. Ryou went on anyway, uncaring.

"Like I was saying, _very _bad news. If I haven't made a fool of myself and screwed up the entire system… there appears to be a new type of Kirema Anima loose in Tokyo. A more _dangerous_ type."

Lettuce's eyes grew larger. Zakuro and Mint furrowed their brows in unison. "How?" we chimed at once.

"The small, unimportant Kirema Anima Kish and his troupe left behind… when the animals are possessed my the aliens… well, they're breeding. Their hatchlings are twice what the original monsters were combined, and mutated because of mixed species." I wrinkled my nose. Nasty. "From what I can tell, a lot of them are still very young and vulnerable," Ryou said. "And some are even still in their egg sacks. Its better to act when they're weak, naturally, and since we're not sure of their growing rate… well, we're going to have to start looking for eggs immediately. If we don't act soon, the whole of Japan - and even the earth, if it gets too out of hand - could be put in further chaos than before."

The Aryan sounded deeply upset, and I think we all felt his pain. I suddenly felt weighty with the burden of responsibility. (Yet, the fact that I was a national superhero still seemed much to distant to comprehend properly.) "Should we start today?" I asked, hearing the strange, hard edge in my voice and wincing. "Later," Ryou said, matching my tone. "For now, we need to work on being inconspicuous, as always. Why don't you girls get to work in the café?" I turned and headed to the doors along with the others, when I felt something grabbing my wrist. I didn't even have to guess.

"Shirogane-san…

I rotated, inches away from his dark frame yet again. He looked serious.

"What is it?"

"I want you to be careful."

His voice was barely above whisper, a lullaby, sucking me into a dangerous void of impossible-to-describe feelings and instincts and urges, where everything was pulses and blood and bubbles, a world I don't think I'd ever experienced. It was all a huge heartbeat, a rush of adrenaline to the heart and head, all hot wet steam clouding out clear thought. I fought the tempting lure into the void, nearly escaping.

"With… with what?"

"Well… with your _opposite_."

I looked up at him, noticing he was feet taller than I was. His face was bent parallel to the ground just so that he could look at me. He certainly wasn't a small guy, I realized, despite the fact that I had always considered myself somewhat tall compared to most people. The Aryan stared back with two smoldering sky-colored gems, setting me on fire. My entire body quaked with the unfathomable feeling.

"I'll do my best."

"Thank you very much."

My pulse quickened, threatening cardiac arrest.

"You… you're welcome."

This conversation wasn't progressing very well, I noticed.

"Shirogane-san -"

"God dammit," he swore suddenly, almost laughing to himself, "…call me Ryou."

Powerfully waves of static electricity pulsed through me, and all the blood in my body seemed like it was flowing into my face. My heart began to pound all over again, adrenaline shooting back up to 100 percent in half a millisecond. He leaned closer. "Please." I blinked and stuttered dumbly over the name.

"R… Ryou…"

It sounded and felt like something I should have never said. It was too _close_. (I didn't even call Kichiro by his first name, and I had absolutely no respect for the guy.) But _he_ didn't even seem to notice. He held onto my wrist with warm, callused fingers. His body was tantalizingly close to my own, nearly causing me to shudder. My brain had dissolved completely, flown out my ears. I couldn't even string two sentences together. Every sound I heard around me was echoed within the chamber of my skull. _Empty_. My mouth hung open, motionless, with no words to form. I wasn't thinking anything. I wasn't _functioning_. I was only feeling, chanting. Ryou, Ryou, Ryou…

"Now that we've established that, how about you get to work for me?" he recommended as a hushed whisper in my ear. His breath was intoxicating.

That was it. I was gone. Good bye, sanity. The option to refuse wasn't even in existence anymore.

"O…okay…" I breathed in a high-pitched voice utterly unlike my own.

I swiveled around and stumbled across the room, feet tangling into each other, refusing to wok properly. My head was spinning. Halfway down the hallway I paused at a mirror and saw a pair of panther ears reappeared on the top of my head. It only turned me redder. It wasn't fair! Letting the entire world when I was nervous like that... it made me so easy to manipulate. I sighed and pushed open the door and stepped into the brightly lighted café, squinting in the unexpected pinkness. And yet, for once, hearts and ribbons actually seemed appropriate.

---

Ah ha ha ha! I have so much fun screwing around with Ryou. He's probably totally out of character (I haven't read the manga in a while), but I have to admit… heheh… I don't really care. He's just too hot to leave sitting around without a significant role. If you miss the real Mew Mews, I promise I'll have a lot more of them later! This may turn out to be a really long story! Wow!

Please review! I _do_ enjoy reading feedback! It really helps me improve, to know what others think, y'know? Well, have a good day! Hope you keep reading.  
-NekoBun


	11. Strength

**Panther Blues**

Hallo, kind townzitens! Townzitens… wait… that's not a word… (cough) Hallo, kind citizens! This is chapter eleven, because I FEEL like it's chapter eleven! So eat me!

I'm sick right now, and so I stayed home from school today… Isn't that just dreadful? I can't go out and party with my friends if I don't get better soon… (sigh) I can't believe it. But my sore throat, headache and stuffy nose remind me that illness is, in fact, very real. Which sucks. But hey, I'm only human! …Unlike Dracula. I watched one of the thousands of versions of _Dracula_ today. It was eccentric and erotic and made my headache worse, but I still liked it. :D Hmm, blood and human sacrifice. Those silly Transylvanians.

Thank you times _ten thousand_ for the reviews!! XD (glomp) Jolie: Well, yes, I know it was forever!! I'm sorry…!!! And, uh, I don't know about _marriage_, but something like it, perhaps? Ho ho ho! Mew-Sahara: OMFG! I, like, LOVE YOU!!! Dark Flamingo: Wow, gosh, that really means a lot… I'm glad somebody noticed my overdone sarcasm!! It's there for a reason! XD Everyone, thanks for all your reviews!! (twirls around in circles)

I'm wondering… is it okay if add in some aimless fluff here and there? It's so fun to write… bwa ha ha! Bit of a long chapter coming up here. I couldn't stop writing… I don't know when to stop sometimes. Time for Sumono's story.

"_All is in the hands of man. Therefore, wash them often."  
_- Stanislaw J. Lec

**Chapter Eleven!**

After a tad of preparation, Keiichiro reopened the café for the day. Almost suddenly, a stream of needy and expectant customers (mostly people from the museum) came in a steady, noisy train through our front doors. I watched with mild interest, observing the masses, before I was violently disrupted and literally dragged away into the kitchen by Mint and Ichigo, who were chattering to me energetically. I missed half their words because I was in somewhat of a daze from before, so all I really caught was:

"Oh my God, Sumono! It's sooo cute!"

"Kyaa! You'll positively love it!"

"He made it just for you! Come on, come on!"

"Hurry up!"

Disoriented, I arrived in the kitchen, with Ichigo and Mint clasping my arms like security guards, by Keiichiro's side. I blinked and looked up at him. "What's going on?" I squeaked to the tall apron-clad young gentleman, who smiled graciously. He stopped frosting the small cake he had before him and reached down into a cabinet to his left, pulling out a long, narrow rectangular white cardboard box. "It's just for you, my lady," he said in his ridiculously polite manner and handed the thing to me. The girls unleashed me so that I could take it. They jumped up and down, clapping their hands together in excitement.

"Open it! Open it!" They practically squealed.

"All right, already!"

Nervous, I dug my fingernails into the scotch tape holding the box shut, broke the seal, and removed the top of the box to reveal the contents. Whatever it was, it was buried under a mass of thin, fluttery white paper. I slowly lifted the crepe paper concealing my gift, biting my lip. What could lie below?

I actually wasn't too surprised to see the answer. It was a uniform, very much like the ones the rest of the Mew Mews wore for work, with the exception that it was its own color, as every Mew had her own special color. I lifted the thing from its container, trying to seem enthusiastic. "Oh my Gosh," I said in a ambiguously fake tone. "That is truly wonderful, Akasaka-san!" And I guess it would have been, if my tastes differed. But they didn't. Before me, in my very own hands, was something I would never imagine to even consider wearing in my entire life. But then, I never imagined myself being a Mew Mew, now did I?

It was frilly, with several rows of lace and a gigantic bow in the back. The apron sewn onto it was heart-shaped and puffy. There was also a pair of frilly and adorable bloomers, and a small, tiara-like hat. Probably the only redeeming quality of the Thing (I decided to think of it this way) was that it was composed of all of my favorite colors, quite like the ones in my transformation outfit. The dress was the special shade of a silvery cloud, the lace black, the ribbons icy blue. And, despite the fact that I despised all things cutesy, the craftsmanship was excellent, which I could appreciate.

"Thank you so much," I said, surprised by how well I was hiding my disgust. Keiichiro bowed and took my hand. "It was my pleasure," he said and then kissed it, granting my face the permission to turn 50 shades of red in less than a second. The guy was such a gentleman… probably the kindest member of the opposite sex I'd ever encountered in my life. I briefly wondered if he was homosexual, but I had no time to truly contemplate. The girls then hurriedly pushed me out of the kitchen, begging for me to try the Thing on.

"Pleeease," Ichigo pouted, gigantic brownies of eyes wobbling pathetically. "We know you don't like cute things, but pleeeease!" Mint pressed her palms together and dipped her head as if praying. "You gotta. For us," she added.

Somehow, I couldn't refuse to my new team mates. "Okay," I agreed sullenly, seeing no way out of it. "I will. For you guys." They then cheered, giggling, and forcefully shoved me into the bathroom to change. I was trapped, and my only option was to follow my promise. I sighed and shuffled into an empty stall, closing the door. Slowly, I undressed, letting my clothing fall to the floor. Holding my breath and squeezing my eyes shut, I tugged the Thing over my head and adjusted it. I was very astounded to find that it fit perfectly, draping where it should, not clinging where it shouldn't. It was very short, I found, so I forlornly dragged the bloomers up my legs, imagining I looked completely ridiculous. I tied all the loose ribbons into bows and set the tiara-hat thing on my head. I gathered up my clothes from the floor. Then, inhaling deeply, prepared for the worst, I unlocked the stall door and stepped into the light, dumbly walking to the mirror above the sinks.

At once my stomach lurched in fright at the sight of the stranger that had inhabited my body. At once a feeling of illness swept through me. I looked like a bloody gothic Lolita, with all those laces. The skirt was agonizingly short, revealing more of myself than I had thought was necessary. I wasn't sure why I was so nervous, standing there and gawking at myself. I felt the same way I had when I had saw myself as a transformed Mew: dangerously strange and alien from the old me I used to know so well. I had known myself better than anything. I knew my fears, my boundaries. But _this _girl? Who wasshe? She looked so different. She was _cute. And attractive_. Gaping, I turned this way and that to examine myself. It was truly perturbing to see myself in such a state, and I fought to hold onto self-control. I had to stay calm. Stay calm. Plenty of girls wore stuff like this. Sweet Lettuce and little Pudding wore stuff like this. It was no big deal.

_It's no big deal_, I told myself firmly. _Just go out there and get over it. _

Once I had my mind made up, I pushed open the door, and was immediately glomped by a flying Ichigo, who was ooohing and aahhing in scrutiny. She got off of me and rubbed her chin thoughtfully, smiling. "I like it. I like it a lot!" And with that, she turned around and hollered, "HEY! GUYS! RYOU! GET OVER HERE!" She had all the words out before I had time to slap my hand over her mouth. "Ichigo," I hissed in her ear, "what are you trying to do to me?" She just chuckled and pushed me off. "Oh, come on. You look sexy. And really, they were going to see you anyway!" "But -" I protested, thinking of all the unwanted attention I was going to receive, especially a certain Aryan, who I was embarrassed enough around, _without_ looking like some sort of prostitute. I was going to try and explain, but she cut me off. "It's not like you can hide in the bathroom forever," she said. "You'd be surprised," I grumbled, and ducked behind her as the girls approached, a curiosity in their eyes.

Pudding cried, "There she is!" and dove behind Ichigo, revealing my sad hiding place. She took to my arm with an iron grasp and dragged me away from safety, out into the open where everyone could see my new attire. I groaned as she pushed me, totally unwilling, into the line of fire - or, rather, the range in which I could be viewed by the public. The girls then took a step back, considered me for a moment, and then they all smiled, quite in unison. Lettuce clapped her hands together. "You look so cute!" she said pleasantly. Zakuro gave a slight nod and patted me awkwardly on the head, her sign of approval. Mint mostly laughed at me, and then added that she liked it on me after she was done pointing out everything that was wrong with it. I was so hot in the face that my eyes were watering. I had never, in all my life, expected anything like this to be happening. I was just relieved that Ryou hadn't shown up. I wouldn't bear being observed in such manner with him there.

In fact, I didn't even know where Ryou was. Possibly back at his computer, or out running errands…

-

Needless to say, it was my first time working in the café. I came to realize that being a waitress was much more difficult than it appeared, and within forty minutes of service I had worked up a sweat. The girls and Keiichiro gave me all the guidelines to work, but still, I emerged frazzled by such complicated service. Suddenly, I had a higher respect for all the waiters I'd encountered in my life.

Still, despite the hardships, it was fun to see the others at work. Zakuro was the most aloof waitress I'd ever seen, and Lettuce the clumsiest. Ichigo was a spaz, but Pudding was even more raucous, a point proven by the fact that every five minutes she burst into random acrobatics, which she fondly called, "performing". Minto hardly worked at all: she spent half the time sitting around and having her traditional cup of afternoon tea, a ritual I was later informed that she rarely to never broke. Beside the fact that I had acquired nearly 10 new friends in less than a week, I was also being paid about 1176 yen (NekoBun: this is approximately 10 dollars in American money) an hour, which was more than exceptional for someone like me. Perhaps now I could buy a few things for myself, or at least have some extra cash for dinner…

Soon enough, I discovered that 1176 yen an hour was actually pretty stingy. Work at the café was murder. The customers at the café varied from very sweet to incredibly rude. One was understanding when I told her it was my first day; the other stuck up her nose and refused to eat the food I had given her late. Several times I found myself panting from all the moving around that had to be done, inwardly wishing that I could have found another job that didn't involve waiting on other people (a selfish whim, but I'm only human, eh?). I had needed a job in the first place, but this… this was torture. I was becoming accustomed to the colorful café and the sugary sweet atmosphere, but my uniform didn't quite grow on me affectively. Whenever I passed a male customer, I felt the urge to pull down the back of my skirt, and otherwise I felt terribly foolish. During my bathroom break, I stood before the mirror staring at myself for about five minutes, mouth refusing to close, eyes refusing to stop ogling at the version of myself that I had never thought existed. Half disgusted, half amazed.

My first day resulted in two dropped platters, one angry outburst from a fat guy when I accidentally spilled coffee on his wife's purse, and several mishaps in service on my part. By the time Keiichiro put up the "closed" sign, I was beyond exhausted. I was fried. I was pooped. I was nearly undead. 1176 yen an hour?! What kind of stupid pay _was_ that? I harrumphed and stared at the window to the rapidly darkening sky.

We were cleaning up by that point. Pudding and Lettuce had gone home early with excuses of homework and chores. When the remainder of the Mews were in the back, helping to get the kitchen in order, I took the opportunity of solitude to procrastinate. I slumped on the wall and rubbed my aching, pounding head, yanking off my hat and wiping my face with it. "Good God," I said in a low voice. "This stuff is harassment…" I made an elongated grunting noise and made my way across the room, where I sank into a soft, heart-shaped chair. I closed my eyes to block out the fluorescent lighting, massaging my stiff neck and shoulders, and moaning softly to no one in particular.

"Rough first day?"

His smug voice made me jump a foot in the air. I felt panther ears and a tail spring from my body at once. My face turned red as I whipped around and saw him lounging carelessly in the entrance doorframe, a dark shadow with sparkling, entertained blue eyes. I suddenly became extremely aware of my uniform again, which I had attempted in vain to ignore during work. I felt strange and exposed again, unlike myself. My tail prickled and swished briskly as agitation worked its way into my system. I must have looked like a risqué neko girl with a cranberry for a face.

"…"

I couldn't force out any words. The Aryan just laughed, amused at the fact that his words had startled me to that extent. I scowled at him. "It was, in fact. Your stupid café is insane," I grumbled as an answer to the question. Then I added irritably, "How long have you been standing there like that, anyway?" He just chuckled again, the light and musical sound filling the chamber despite its low volume. "You're awfully defensive sometimes," he observed playfully. My scowl deepened.

"I have my reasons."

More soft laughter, a hushed melody wafting in the air. Then he paused, and it became eerily quiet. I hoped he would say something else, so I wouldn't have to; I was terrible at any kind of conversation that involved people I was frequently nervous around (and not knowing why I was frequently nervous to begin with). I was uncomfortable in the strange silence, so I began to fiddle with the hem of my short, frilly skirt as I trembled in his presence. He stood perfectly still, sapphire eyes nearly glowing like two azure flames. They were rapidly darting up and down and side to side, and his face looked thoughtful and curious. I was confused by this until I realized, with a strange quiver, that he was looking at _me_. His eyes studied every angle, every curve of my frame until I was nearly screaming with heat under the pressure of his gaze, shaking subtly, compelled both to stand and let him see, and to scream and run away at the same time. I had to say something. It was getting much too quiet to withstand.

"Uh," I said, because nothing else brighter came to mind. His eyes shot up to meet mine, and their affect was twice as powerful as I looked into them. _Was_ it possible to have gems for eyes? My knees were about to go out from beneath me. At once I felt terrified. I felt naked. Again, all the words in the Japanese language were suddenly replaced by gibberish and caveman-level methods of conversation. My mouth opened several times, but no words took the opportunity to come out. Ryou spoke instead.

"I'm sorry," he said, his tone not sounding quite as sorry as it should have. "I know I shouldn't stare…" He was grinning a painfully handsome grin, and continued, "but I find it peculiarly entertaining when you get all… nervous like that. Hope you don't mind." I couldn't find the brains to respond, so I attempted making an expression with my face, but that didn't work too well, either. He kept his eyes attached fast onto mine as he finally swaggered through the doorframe and into the café. He had a leather briefcase-like thing with him, which he plopped onto a table. "I mean, _do_ you mind?" he asked, still smiling smugly.

It was all I could do to shake my head with evident determination. And to this day, I'm not sure why I shook it, rather than nod it. It's one of those crazy things I have yet to determine, I suppose. I know what I _thought _I would say. _Yes, of course I mind, you stupid pervy German soldier look-alike…! _But, nooo, I shook it! Stupid girl, stupid girl, stupid, stupid…

The Aryan's smile broadened playfully. He looked pleasantly surprised, the jerk. "Oh. Good. I admit it… I wasn't expecting that answer. And the uniform works for you, anyway." Then he unzipped the leather case and pulled out yet another computer, a sleek-looking silver laptop, and had a seat at the table. He opened the laptop and turned it on. As he was waiting for it to boot up, he looked up at me and went, "Get me some coffee." Just like that. Like a command. Like I was his little lacey scantily-clad servant.

Suddenly, I found that I could talk again. My ears and tail stood on end. "Now, wait a second," I said, irritation seeping into my voice. My hands balled into fists. "That's not fair!" His face remained self-assured. "Oh, is it not? I'm your employer. I pay you ten bucks an hour to help people. That's a lot for a minor. Now, get me some coffee." He flashed an intolerably cute smile and leaned back in his chair, the picture of ease. I glared, disbelieving. The jerk! "You could at least manage a 'please', or something," I growled before I stomped away, foul mood evident. He was still smirking as he watched me go.

As I crashed into the kitchen, scowling bitterly, I barked to the remaining girls, who were putting away dishes, "Argh! The complete bastard! Is he _always_ like that?" They all looked up, even Keiichiro, a knowing expression crossing every face. Like they didn't have to guess what the heck I was complaining about. They harmonized, with indifferent tones, "Shirogane?"

"Exactly!"

Somehow, this made Zakuro chuckle briefly, and immediately sent Mint and Ichigo into a massive fit of giggles, as they sank to the floor, clutching their sides. They appeared to be delighted by the prospect that Ryou was an idiot. They were instantly red in the face, shaking and rolling around uncontrollably. Ichigo, especially, was heaving out laughter like it was the funniest thing she'd ever come across. When she finally began to regain her sanity, she wiped a few tears from her eyes and said, "Oh, now my ribs hurt. Ha ha! I'm sorry… I'm sorry, that's just so funny…" She simpered quietly as I stared, slightly disturbed. These Mew Mew people were _really _very strange. "How is that funny?" I squeaked, flinging my arms up. "How is that _funny_?"

Zakuro patted my shoulder, as if to calm me, and said, "It's something that isn't explained very easily. After a while, you'll understand. In the mean time, work on controlling those ears of yours…"

Being reminded that I sucked at controlling my emotions only made me more testy. Red and outraged, I made my way around two snickering girls shaking and stranded on the kitchen floor. I reached for a coffee pot and a mug and dumped in the leftover hot, dark fluid, stirred in some cream and sugar, and then huffed out of the kitchen. I tried to maintain a shred of dignity as I crossed the tile floors, inwardly struggling to make my ears and tail disappear. When at last I thought I had gained control, I saw his face across the way, and my heart leapt into frenzied, rage-driven pulsations.

I approached him briskly, slammed the cup onto the table, and then crossed my arms. "Ya happy?" I quipped, unable to make my panther-like extremities go away. I was too unsettled. My ears were set back defensively. He gave me that lopsided, over-confident smile, and took the mug, raising it to me. "Extremely," he said, and then took a sip. I frowned, disliking his pleasure for my misery. "It perturbs me how you manage to be so jolly, when the rest of us are waiting on your hand and foot," I nearly growled at him as he ignored me and took in the scent of his coffee. "You're very rude, you know," I added, just for good measure. He sighed, not looking up.

"I find it fascinating that you say that, even after I sacrificed my entire life for something that benefits all of human kind."

His tone was stony, and yet somehow still relaxed. I felt a twinge of guilt, and my eyes fell to the floor. He was right, I guess. "But… that doesn't give you the power to… to…" "To ask for a cup of coffee?" he finished for me, and then laughed inwardly. "So, I ask favors of people. Big deal. _You_ bitch a lot."

"I do not!"

"Oh, don't you?"

Despite the fact that this was completely true, I couldn't find a way to admit it without sounding like a moron. So I just said, in a shrill voice, "Quit pretending you're some bloody martyr!" My words nearly echoed off the walls. He then gave me a sharp look and said quietly, "I never said I was a martyr, and I'm trying to convince anyone that I am. You're the one who takes everything personally and plays it up like it's some huge catastrophe. You're _overly dramatic_."

"I…"

My bottom right eyelid twitched. My face turned dangerously hot, and I felt tears coming to my eyes, like what usually happens when I'm about to flip my lid. Again, I was bombarded by several violent instincts to hit something, hit him, scream, lash out and throw something at him. I fought it to my extent, escaping with a deep, calming breath. Calm down. Keep cool. You are peaceful. Peaceful panther. I stood with my eyes pressed together, gnawing my bottom lip to keep from scarring his beautiful face.

Within a few long seconds, the rage had partially subsided. Unfortunately, the tears that had been created during my near outburst were still very much in existence, and I tried desperately to keep them from slipping lose. I didn't want to let anyone see me cry again. It was too embarrassing.

"Ugh."

I hit myself in the face, trying to covertly wipe away the wetness around my eyes without him noticing. I finally succeeded at clearing my head, but I was still nervous.

"You're right, I'm way too dramatic. I'm sorry... All of my life… I just, you know…"

I trailed off, unable to think of a good way to put it. He raised his eyebrows at me, unimpressed, and then looked down. "Forget it," I muttered in defeat. Finally, I felt my panther ears and tail fade away, leaving only humanlike attributes.

It was clear our little conversation was over, but somehow I didn't have the will power to turn around and head back to the kitchen where I should have been, helping to clean up with the rest of the girls. I didn't want to leave. Somehow, here in an empty café room with Ryou was where I found myself yearning to stay. It was a strange feeling. Absent-minded and looking for an excuse to remain in the room, I took a rag from a shelf by the entrance. I began to pretend to wipe down a table that had been cleaned maybe two times now, hoping he wouldn't notice its already shining surface. Alas, I could only wipe tables for so long. I began to fidget, until finally I gave up the cleaning tactic.

Sighing, I slumped and pulled out the chair that was across from his at the small table and sat. He wasn't looking at his laptop, but rather, down at the table. Again he appeared to be in deep contemplation, seeming to exercise his mind for his own enjoyment. …But he didn't seem to be too joyful. Unexpectedly, he shut his laptop and began to stow it away, all while being silent and serious. I watched him curiously, wondering what on earth he could be pondering about. Whatever it was, it might have been bothersome, because he kept frowning in frustration and chewing his lip. Strangely, his face was heavily flushed. He set the laptop case on the floor and picked up his coffee again, taking a drink. For a few more moments, it was quiet.

"Shirogane…" I began, but he interrupted me. "Ryou," he corrected sternly, and I blushed, suddenly unable to remember what it was I was going to say. He had the strange talent of mind-boggling, astonishing me until I had no mind left to use.

"Er. Never mind."

"Okay."

Somehow, his bluntness made me chuckle to myself. What on earth was _with _this guy, anyway? "All right," I said, unable to contain myself. "What's _up_?"

He finally looked up from his contemplative lapse and turned his brilliant eyes on mine. "What do you mean, exactly?" he asked nonchalantly, angelic features impassive, with the exception of the now discreet redness.

"I don't know. You're… you look troubled. Like something's on your mind."

His facial expression softened significantly, something that was so startlingly handsome that I fought to keep my breathing at a healthy pace as I felt my pupils become attached to him like they'd been sealed on with superglue. "Don't worry. I'm all right," was all he said, with an added twisted smirk that somehow had the power to knock the air from my lungs.

"I'm overly dramatic, but you're bizarre," I remarked breathlessly, then added, "And moody."

"Huh. Yeah, a lot of people have told me that. They tell me my attitude changes too much within too short an amount of time."

"Well… it does, sort of."

"I see."

"I don't think it's a bad thing. It's just sort of, erm, mysterious. Not… not be rude, or anything. "

"Not at all."

Then, abruptly, he stood up, chair raking against the tiles as he pushed it in. I watched him pick up his coffee cup and move around the small table, making the short distance between he and I even shorter, so much that he was leaning against the back of my chair. I felt like he was towering over me. I couldn't see his eyes, which somehow made me feel strange and empty, as if I'd been observing a marvelous painting, and someone suddenly snatched it from my view. It was odd, and yet, I felt secure, able to hear and feel his quiet breathing. "Well… I think you're the same way," he said softly, as if he were thinking out loud. "You're extremely mercurial." I was concentrating too hard on controlling my panther ears to respond (that and the fact that he was so near to me that I could have rested my head on his torso). "Uh… yeah," I managed to say. "We're quite a pair." _Don't you dare lose your cool_, I demanded myself firmly.

I could sense that he was smiling to himself. "But, like you said, not in a bad way," he said. "Quite the opposite." I held on to the seat of my chair, trying to unleash my jolting electric sensations on something obscure. "I've never heard of being mercurial in a good way," I said absently, truly distracted by his warm body, digging my nails into the underside of my chair to prevent myself from doing something improper. "Oh, I have," he said, tone still low. I made myself blink to clear away the haze accumulating in the way of my train of thought, trying to divert my attention away from him. "Have you? What makes it good, then?"

"Many things. I think it's sort of compelling... Mostly amusing.

_I_ could have told him that. He was always laughing at me, from what I could tell. _Compelling and amusing_. It was better than freaky or boisterous, like most people told me was. He leaned and shifted to the side, and squinted into my face. I flinched and went red in an instant. I simply could not overcome the _closeness_. Inches, inches, just centimeters away. Luminous ultramarine eyes, chiseled cheek bones, and lips… Lips… Something about them was so tantalizingly desirable. I caught myself just as I realized my face was moving in, and then gathered my senses and thrust my back against the chair again. God, what was wrong with me? My heart was pounding so hard that it was making my entire body quake every time it made a pulse. I made myself look away from his face. "You seem tense," he observed rather quizzically.

I almost laughed out loud. Ha ha. Tense. That wasn't exactly the word I would have picked, although it was partially true. I was more mentally hysteric than tense. Partially hysteric, and fully _insane_. What the hell was I _thinking_? I'd never felt quite this way in my life, but it all had come flying at me like an anvil to the head. I had become so temptingly, so entrancingly near, then I had yearned for more. _Much _more. It was curiously exhilarating, but only before I'd come back down to Earth. Then, I felt like a fool. _Why am I being so bloody idiotic? _I thought, suddenly panicked. And being panicked then led me to another completely unrelated thought that broke my rapture completely.

"OH MY GOD!"

My voice shrieked out violently, and Ryou backed away, a hand over his ear. "That was sort of loud," he said, giving me a bewildered and peculiar smile. I jumped to my feet. "I… I'm sorry," I said, slapping my hot face with my hands. "Really. Like you said, mercurial. I'm sorry," I said again urgently, bolting for the back door. He followed me dutifully. "What's going on?" he wanted to know. "Nothing," I squeaked, not wanting to share my stupidity as I hunted around in the back for my school clothes so that I could change. His face remained perplexed, and he asked, "_Is_ it, really?"

"What time is it?"

Ryou checked his watch, then said, "It's around seven." My stomach dropped through my feet. "_Shit_!" My suddenness caught him a bit off guard. I had no time to explain, and so I hastily snagged my sailor fuku (NekoBun: That's such a funny word…) and attempted to bolt again, but he was fast as well; he took hold of me in a rather unconventional way and asked, more forcefully this time, "Sumono! What's going on?"

Naturally, I went limp in his strong arms. I don't know what it was that made me do so. That _thing _again, that impulse of kismet, or whatever the heck it was. Normally, I would have lashed out at whoever took hold of body in such a manner. But not now. I felt like drawing closer, crushing myself up against his chest, among other things. I was so bloody distracted by it that I failed to tell him. "It's… I forgot…" God, his body was so warm. "Forgot what?" "M… My dad, he…" And so solid. "Could you please speak coherently?" And he smelled truly fantastic. "I can, if… you… let me go…" He slowly and carefully unleashed me from the iron cage of his arms, and I emerged nearly gasping as I said, "I have to get home. My dad is going to give my ass the cowhide."

"Then why go?"

"He needs me."

That bewildered expression on his perfect face seemed nearly frozen in place. "He needs… to beat you?" he asked slowly. I tried not to laugh. "In a way."

"And you're going to let him need to beat you?"

"I meant the cowhide figuratively, Shirogane-san."

"Ryou!"

What was it about saying his name that made me so flustered?

"Ryou. Right, Ryou. I'm sorry. Anyway, I just have to go. He's probably tearing down half the living room right now."

Ryou furrowed his brow. "What sort of fellow _is_ this father you keep talking about, anyway?" he asked cautiously. A streak of genuine concern traced his features, and my suddenly heart felt warm. I smiled, and patted his shoulder awkwardly. "It's okay," I said, neglecting to answer his question. "I'll be okay." Crossing his arms, he asked, "Do you need company to get you home?" He said it dutifully, not lightly. I shook my head vigorously, trying to conceal the downright refusal in my mind. God, no. The last thing I wanted him to see was where I lived. It was probably a trashcan compared to wherever it was he resided. "Uh, no. Thanks anyway." "But girls shouldn't be alone at night," he said, tone low and contemplative, as though he were thinking of all the things that could happen to me if I went on my own. "I can handle it. Really." He watched me with unblinking eyes as I moved away slowly, wishing I didn't have to leave him and cross over into Hades.

"Really?"

"Really. I'm sure."

Then I escaped out of the back room to change, and say good bye to Keiichiro and the girls, with one last fleeting glance at the gorgeous Aryan who stayed behind, looking dazed.

-

The truth was, I wasn't sure. I could never be sure with my father. Sometimes he could be somewhat decent, whether it was with alcohol or not. Most of the time, he was just sort of impassive, doing as he needed and pleased without too many extremes. And sometimes he could be a monster. That was when I _really_ wasn't sure. If I was going to be okay, I mean. If I was going to be able to sleep under the same roof as him, or if I was going to be able to salvage a few of the belongings within our apartment without them being demolished in fits of anger. Mentally, I named a few of the things that had become unusable during those times. They were mostly dishes; old china sets, juice glasses and such. There was the radio, which had been reduced into a rubble of wires and chips. And then there was the snow globe.

I never did get over the snow globe. I still haven't. Thinking about it makes me uncomfortable even now, so it's hard to describe without getting dramatic, and so you'll have to please forgive me as I put this down. The snow globe was very expensive, very beautiful and very old. It was a surviving artifact from my mother's side of the family - something one of my great grandmothers had purchased in France. It was an heirloom among the women of the family, so naturally it came into my possession when I was born. I loved that thing. I used to shake it around and watch the little white specks fall down to the bottom of an elaborate and colorful merry-go-round, then turn the knob on the bottom and listen to the haunting, tinkling music fill my bedroom. I had it until I was about 13, and that's when the heirloom thing came literally crashing to an end.

Dad was drunk and raving mad about a prior girlfriend who had harshly let him go that day. He was going into neurotic rants, shouting and trashing women of the world, which of course included my mother and I. In the chaos, he burst into my room and began to kick my belongings around, screaming blindly about how much he hated my mother and me, and how he wished I would hurry up and run away from him, just like everyone else did. "Like the way small animals run away from a demon." We fought, and it amounted into the destruction of the snow globe. He had taken it in his shaking hands, and I pleaded desperately, "Please, Dad, not the globe, not the globe, break my bones, but not the globe!" But he didn't listen. I had to watch as the trashed his arm toward the floor with menacing power, the water and the snow and the glass flying everywhere.

That wasn't the first time he'd exploded, but it was the first night I ran away from home for the night. I went to Namiko's place that time, but subsequently, I knew I couldn't keep running to her for shelter - not without questions being raised as to why. So I tried the park, lying down on a bench and covering myself with a jacket. And, as ironic as it sounds, it was the safest place I'd found yet.

-

I boarded the train, this time not as nearly as impatient as I had been to get to my destination before. I was careful to watch my back so late in the day; perverts were rampant in Tokyo, this I knew well. Thankfully, I managed to get on with a few other females, so I could relax as the train sped on. There I was compacted in with the usual swarm of busy, smelly people, like an overstuffed can of sardines, and when finally it jolted to a halt at my station, I felt my heart sink. I didn't want to go home at all. I wanted to stay with the others at the café, especially with a certain person…

I jerked my thoughts away from the subject and walked out of the train station. As I slowly made my way through the dark, chilly night, another thing occurred to me. It wasn't just weird perverts I should be looking out for… it was the Kirema Anima inbreeds. Not that they were really a danger when they were still in their eggs, or when they were just hatchlings, but all the same… Perhaps that was why Ryou had been so unsure. Perhaps he had been thinking about the inbreeds. That made more sense; he didn't seem like the type to get too hung over the occasional lecherous old man. He was more of the business-like type… Surely he wasn't _that _concerned about me. Was he?

_Idiot_, that little notorious voice in my head chided impatiently. _You shouldn't engage in wishful thinking. _

_I'm trying my hardest_, I barked back.

Something brushed on my leg, and I nearly jumped a foot in the air. Startled, I looked down and saw a little gray cat rubbing on my ankles. It had a little green scarf tied around its neck, and it looked up at me with huge eyes. Looking at its little furry face, I had the strangest sense of deja-vu, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Had I seen this cat before? (NekoBun: wink wink nudge nudge Bwa ha ha!) I bent down and rubbed it behind its ears. "Konban wa," I said, and the little thing mewed back, as if it were greeting me. I smiled and pet it for a little while longer before I stood again. "Sorry, neko-chan," I said. "I have to go home." The cat meowed again as I walked away, but I kept going. I love animals, but I didn't have time for it now. Yet, it wasn't long until I noticed the cat was following me, trotting silently behind me like a caboose. "I don't have any food," I said, although I knew it had no idea what I was saying. It kept on trotting.

The cat disappeared when I reached my apartment complex. I'm not sure where it went, but I looked behind me and there was nothing there. _Must have slunk off ages ago_, I thought. Then I tromped up the metal staircase that lead to our apartment, sighing heavily. What an odd day… and it had gone by so quickly. It was a shame I had to end it in my sad little habitat. Panthers weren't supposed to live indoors, and lately I'd begun to feel oddly cramped under the roofs of buildings, longing for the stretch of a blue sky above my head.

I reached my destination shortly. Everything seemed normal, but then… there was a huge _pang_ing noise from inside, and an abnormally loud voice that wasn't familiar. At first, I was afraid somewhat had broken into the apartment, but that didn't seem likely. I listened harder, and I realized it was coming from the TV. The TV was being played on full blast. I pressed my ear against the door, eavesdropping in, suddenly nervous. There were a few other strange noises, scrapings and bangs. And then shouting. Incoherent, gravelly shouts - the voice of my father. He sounded unmistakably upset. I didn't want to go in, but I knew it would be foolish to stand outside the door with my ear pressed against it. With shaking hands I took out my key and cautiously unlocked the thick metal lock, pushing open the entrance. Immediately my ears were pierced with the thunderously loud volume of the television, and the moment I stepped my first foot into the area, I heard groaning metal and a large, ground-shaking _thud_. He was at it again.

"Dad," I called into the kitchen, covering my ears. No response. "Dad!" I poked my head around the corner. He was no where in sight, so I fled to the television monitor and hurriedly turned it off. The light and noise faded to a subdued blip. I looked around. Where was he? I could have sworn I'd heard his voice, something I knew better than the back of my hand. For a few moments I doubted his presence, but that was before I caught a glimpse of the "living room". The couch was set cockeye, a lamp overturned. A stack of papers had been strewn all over, more than likely knocked about in a sudden fit of rage. With the quietness, I jumped nearly a foot in the air when I heard yet another sharp noise behind me. I spun around, and there, down a short hall, in the door of the bathroom, was my father, looking furious and sweaty. He was holding a beer bottle, naturally, and his face looked oddly swollen, red nose and cheeks and pink eyes watering dangerously. "You," he said. "You little punk…"

Obviously this was my doing. He had been deprived of my services for an hour too long, and become frustrated. "You didn't call me, you didn't tell me where you were," he said, the affect of the drink heavy in his speech pattern.

"What happened, Dad?"

"What happened? What happened to _you_? Damn bitch, you left me here!"

The thunder in his voice made me jolt, chilling me. I tried to make a calming gesture. I advanced slowly, thinking maybe if I stayed calm, he would too. He was drunk, and he frightened me that way. But if he knew I was scared, he could use me however he wanted. I couldn't afford that. "I didn't leave you, Dad. I'm right here."

"You left! You didn't come back! You ran away, just like everyone else!"

"I came back. I'm right here."

I tried to reach out and put my hand on his shoulder. He wouldn't allow it. He trashed out and knocked my arm violently out of the way. My hand hit the wall, and pain lanced up to my wrist. I nearly shouted, but I contained myself. I had to keep him somewhat steady. "Dad," I began, but he cut me off.

"Where did you go? Listen to me, bitch! I said, _where did you go_?"

He was huge. Menacing. Before I even realized what was happening, he had cornered me against the wall, with no significant way out. "I got a job," I said, my voice escaping as a pathetic whisper. "I needed to work." His huge hands rushed out and pinned my shoulder against the wall, and it felt as if he was trying to crush my bones. I cried out before I had a chance to stop myself. It only agitated him further.

"You need to work, do you? Is what I give you not good enough? You don't need a job! Your job is here, at _home_!"

The pressure was terrifying. The feeling of his touch was repulsive and I had the instinct to shrink away, but there was no room to move. The stench that was emanating from him was stifling. I couldn't breathe and my heart was racing. "Dad," I croaked, "Get off. Please get off." He shouted something unintelligible and trashed his head around like an angry animal.

"Shut up!"

He took hold of my shirt, just around the brim of the collar, and tugged. Oh, God. I had to get away, and fast. I could just barely see over his shoulder, over the couch and through the kitchen. I had left the door wide open, and the lights from outside shone in the entrance like some opening into heaven, a beacon. It was my only hope. Staying here would not be wise in the least, and I'd been home for only a matter of minutes. Who knew how much worse it would get?

I tried to worm free, but he was much too large. I twisted around as he shouted at me, his huge, booming voice spitting words I could no longer understand. He was going into hysterics. Not safe to be around in any way. "Please," I said, but I didn't sound convincing. I only sounded weak and hopeless. He wasn't convinced. Quite the opposite; he yelled something again and pulled harder, yanking the side of my neck downwards. I heard fabric rip. What was he trying to do? I felt sick with fear, but I wasn't about to let this happen.

Escaping loosely was no longer an option, so there was only one thing left to do: hurt him. "I'm sorry," I said, and his face turned confused. Then I reared my knees upward, crashing into the lower part of his abdomen. He made a yelping noise and went spiraling backwards, and I sprang away from the wall, drenched in sweat. My top was torn at the seam where my shoulder was; the front was hanging open, so I had to hold it shut with one hand.

He looked up at me, more wounded and infuriated now than ever. Perhaps I had made a mistake in forcing my way out. I didn't know, because I couldn't think of another way. "Unless you calm down, I'm leaving," I said, trying to sound authoritative, and failing. My voice was high and shaky, much like the rest of my body, which was convulsing in horror. He growled. "No leaving! You're not leaving!"

The expression on his face was unfathomable and confused me even further. I knew he was afraid of not having someone's presence, and so usually I gave into keeping him company; cooking for him, doing his laundry, etcetera. I considered it briefly; if I could calm him down - if I could get his mind off certain things - could I stay here tonight? But then I looked into his eyes. There was something in his face that made me disgusted; something I didn't even want to think about. I couldn't stay, not right now. He was drunk, and wanted more than my company tonight. "No leaving!" he bellowed again. I turned to face him.

"I have to."

My father would have none of this. I attempted to escape him, narrowly avoiding an object that went flying at my head, which turned out to be a dictionary. I fled, slowed by the fact that I had to grasp my shirt to keep from being exposed. I ducked around the couch and another book went flying past me. Crippled with anxiety, I tried to slip out of his view and get to the door unnoticed. It didn't work. He bounded at me. I dodged him, and he went barreling onward into the ironing board. Another huge crash. "Bitch!" he howled. I tried to ignore the desperate affliction in his tone. Quickly, I went to the coat hanger and grabbed my woolen jacket and hurriedly put it on, still quivering despite its warmth. Then I went to a counter, opened up a drawer and took out a needle and thread, tucking it into my pocket.

"I'm sorry, Dad."

"You're leaving me! You're leaving me!"

"I'm not. I'll be back, I promise."

He started to cry. Large tears streaked down his already red face, and he bellowed, "You can't keep going away!" He struggled to his feet, only to come crashing back down into the mess he had created. He was in pain. My heart stung to see him like that. But I just couldn't risk so much, not ever. "I'm sorry," I whispered again. "I promise I'll come back." Then I left, closing and locking the door behind me. I could hear him crying out even as I took to the stairs.

-

Halfway down the street I felt tears stinging dangerously behind my eyelids. I refused to let myself cry. It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault. Was it? _Was _it my fault? Probably, I decided. He wouldn't be like that if it weren't for me. I shouldn't have left. I should have stayed. He was always so alone, and it hung around him like a plague. I should have kept by his side and found a way to calm him. I stopped in the middle of my step, hugging the jacket around myself feebly. I should have stayed.

I almost turned around when I saw the little gray cat again, which came leaping at me, rubbing up against my leg. I sniffed, stooping down once more to pet the thing. "Hey," I said. My voice sounded pathetic. Small and tired. "Where is your owner? I bet they're worried about you," I said, stroking its back. The cat looked up at me with starry and unblinking eyes. It was too dark to make out much else of it. It meowed softly, and then weaved in and out of my legs. It seemed to enjoy doing that, for some reason. "I don't have any food, neko," I told it for the second time. I straightened myself and then proceeded to head towards the closest park bench findable. As I walked the cat followed me the whole way there.

When I got to my usual bench, it was much later than I expected, and I was mellowed with the exhaustion that was creeping through my bones. The day had passed me up like a silver bullet. I collapsed on the empty bench, opened up my jacket and slowly began to mend my shirt. The cat pounced on the seat and sat beside me, watching me with an odd expression, if cats could have expressions. When I was through, I bit the thread off with my teeth and refastened my jacket, a long and shuddery sigh escaping my lips. I looked down at the cat and it looked up at me, square in the face.

"Thanks for your presence tonight, neko."

It meowed and tilted its head to the side. Of course, it couldn't understand me. But I kept talking anyway. "I have a bit of a problem, if you can't tell," I said. "And I don't know what to do about it." I looked up at the sky, the cold air nipping my nose and the street noises churning around me like an electronic lullaby. The stars were out tonight, strangely enough. It was nice to see them, miles away from the earth, without a care in the world. All stars had to do was stay up there and look pretty. No trouble to it. I wished I were a star, looking down on everything, twinkling brightly and far away from the badness of the world.

"People wonder why I haven't reported him to the police yet. They just don't understand what's going on. It's sort of a secret, anyway."

The cat turned its head upwards and gave me a curious look. I chuckled a twisted-sounding, hollow laugh and began to fiddle with its green scarf. "I suppose I can tell you," I said. "It's not like you're going to tell anyone, right? Do you promise not to tell anyone?" The cat blinked and meowed, and I couldn't help but smile. "Okay, then." I picked the fuzzy thing up and set in in my lap, petting its silky silver fur. It stayed put, curled up in a little ball, looking quite content with itself. "I guess I would have left years ago. I would have either been sent away to some distant relative, or I would be in foster care, or something. There's more than one reason why I'm not somewhere else. The first reason is because I want to stay in Tokyo, with my friends." I sighed. "If I still _have_ my friends. I've known Namiko since kindergarten. I hope she doesn't stay mad at me forever. I couldn't imagine running off to Kyoto with some strange family I know nothing about… it would screw me up even further." Running my finger through the cat's fur, I continued. "People who know my dad keep telling me to get some help. For me, or for him, or for both of us. I don't suppose they know he hits me sometimes. It's really hard to deal with when he does it, but when I think about it, it's not too bad afterwards. I know I'm not supposed to let him get away with it - I never let anyone get away with anything. But the thing is, I want to go on living with him."

The feline stared up at me, as if it were surprised to hear me say such a thing. I patted it reassuringly. "I'm not done yet, koneko. Santa Maria, Dad's so alone. He deserves a chance. I really hate him, but he deserves a chance. I don't think he's ever been given consistent company in life before, so I want to help him out a little, even if it means the skin off my back. His parents died when he was little. Mom ran off permanently… and he doesn't exactly have too many close friends." I smiled. "Furthermore, I can handle myself pretty well. I've made it so far. He could have had me in the bushes years ago, if that was what he wanted." The cat yelped. I stared at it. What had I done? Petted a little too hard?

Confused, I lifted it off my lap, and set it on the side of the bench. "Thank you for listening," I whispered, and kissed its head. It backed up, looked slightly disturbed or flustered. I should have remembered most animals didn't like to be kissed by strangers. I could only laugh as I laid on my side, resting my head on my arm. The bench was hard, and it was cold… but I had some company at my feet and the stars above my head, and somehow it felt like that was all I needed.

---

Hmmm. Is it just me, or was that chapter sort of drabbly? Most of my stuff is drabbly. You'll have to forgive me. xD Despite that, it's still sonically fun to write. Sumono comes very naturally to me, and using Ryou as some sort of supportive figure is very enjoyable. Poor thing… to think, he followed her all the way from the café in cat form! That must have been difficult. I don't even know how he did it, and I'm the writer! Ha ha!

Hope you enjoy. I know it's been taking me forever to post up simple chapters, but life is so bloody hectic… we've been having a lot of out-of-town guests, and my computer is in the guest bedroom. O.o _Not_ fun. Anyway, I hope all you people have a wonderful day. Me, I'm going to go help make dinner. xD

-NekoBun


	12. Decisions

**Panther Blues**

Warning: Long Introduction Incoming xD

(Is awoken abruptly from stupor by rabid Tokyo Mew Mew fans) Oh! Ahem! (wipes sand from eyes) Hello, I'm NekoBun, you're somebody, and this is chapter twelve. Wow! Already! I never thought I'd ever get to a chapter twelve on anything. This is the farthest I've gotten on an internet story, because I am so terribly inconsistent. I feel proud. 3 Ha ha. I'm such a writing newbie… I haven't been at it for very long, and I'd say I'm doing okay.

This is an **unimportant** **note** I felt like adding in: For those of you who are real Japanese culture nuts, you may have noticed that the name "Sumono" should actually be "Sumomo". It's one of those typo things I did in the very beginning that I sort of stuck with, reason being that I think the name Sumono actually fits her better. Sumomo sounds… somehow… more girly. Which she is not, to a wide extent. And even though it's not a real name, it doesn't matter to me... I doubt it does to anyone else, unless you are offended by made-up names. If you are… erm… accept my humble apology. Go ignorant otaku power! Wooo! XD (cough)

Holy cow, reviews! Thank you, everyone! **Jolie**: I have no idea how you get your reviews up so quickly, but it's insane! Wow! **Xanthera**: Thanks a million for the feedback! Grammar has always been a weak point for me (can you tell? There are so many typos, and I don't even bother to fix them! That's laziness for you). And fanart?! I'd be honored! What's your account name? **Dark Flamingo**: Again, thank you sooo much! It really means a lot that there are a few people out there even bothering to read this. **MewSahara**: As always, you review with goodness and warmth! Huzzah! **Kyosbrother**: XD! Sweet, another reviewer! Thank you so much - I can't tell you how jolly that makes me feel! x)

Again, I'm being irresponsible. I think it's really a major problem for me. And, no less, I'm missing out on some great dreams right now. Yeah, that's me. Too scatter-brained to sleep on schedule! XD I wouldn't be surprised if I collapsed from sleep-deprivation. Okay, okay, enough with the ongoing incoherent babbling! I need to be duct-taped to a chair, or something! Nobody cares, anyway, do they? I didn't think so. I just talk and talk… Or, rather, type and type. Whatever. On with what I came here for: Sumono's story!

"_Everyone has their harps to play. It's up to you to decide with which ear you'll listen."  
_-Faber, from _Fahrenheit 451 _by Ray Bradbury

**Chapter Twelve!**

I didn't sleep in late that morning. It would have been impossible: the noises from the city were fully blaring and raucous by about five, and so I awoke, like so many other occasions, to the sounds of everyday life. A car alarm, honking out frantically into the polluted urban air, shook me to my senses like a slap across the face.

The first thing I noticed was that my back hurt. A lot. I tried sitting up, only to wince in pain, almost paralyzed, and lie down again. Dull aches throbbed, and I tried not to fixate on it. The second thing I noticed was that I wasn't inside. There was a leafy canopy of a tree overhead, and an odd chill in the air that wasn't common for my bedroom. I reached a hand to my face, rubbing sand from my tired eyes, feeling an odd stiffness in my facial muscles, as if they had been draw too tight to speak or smile. It was a strange feeling, like I had worn my face out by making too many expressions in too little time. But why? I blinked confusedly, dragging my senses from dreamland and into reality, and slowly, I remembered everything that had happened the previous night.

Fighting to keep the lid in my mind shut, I pushed it back, not ready to take it in. There was far too much disturbing matter in my memories that I didn't want to get meddled in my early-morning prehistoric ways of thinking. It would ruin everything; the moment I started to contemplate agonizing events, it was as though the entire day would collapse. I had to keep myself safe from dangerous emotions, lest I spoil a day that had the potential of being enjoyable. It was too early to think so deeply. So early, that in fact, the sun hadn't risen yet. I could feel calming morning zephyrs across my face, early twilight dawning on the earth, and the flow of bustling Tokyo-dwellers. Surprisingly, despite the crunching knots in my lower spine, I was refreshed to be outside. It was so much more natural than sleeping in those smelly, tangled mattresses and sheets that only caused uncomfortable distress.

Gradually, I found the strength to erect myself on the bench. The little gray cat was gone, of course, but I nearly laughed when I saw a large patch of silvery cat hair clinging to the hem of my black woolen coat. At least it had left its mark - proving that I hadn't been merely dreaming of its company.

Sighing heavily with leaden eyelids, I stood up slowly, feeling my back cringe with burning rigidity. It was early enough for me not to be late to school, so I had enough time to sneak back into my apartment and get the school bag that I had dropped when I'd gone in the prior night. I wasn't worried about having a conflict with my father now; the only thing I could count on about his alcoholic habits was a hangover that would keep him inactive. And at this early hour, there was no chance he was awake. I straightened my rumpled, stiff clothing and yawned as I started away from the park bench. I didn't want to look back at it.

The thought of school was just short of disgusting, and I could have slept all day if I'd willed it, but the morning air was just cold enough to keep me on my feet. This was mostly because of the panther genes, I gathered. I used this as part of my excuse, my excuse for walking at an abnormally fast rate, for dodging around civilians as if they were mere obstacles. I had to keep active, keep my mind off the event. Keep going forward, never to gaze upon the past. _There's no need to... Keep your chin up… Hakuna Matata… Don't think, don't think, don't feel… there's no need, you don't have to use those memories for anything… Just walk it off. Shrug it off._

I was crying three quarters of the way back.

-

The classroom hadn't even been unlocked yet. I stared blankly into the glass in the door, seeing half my face and half the inside with the board and all the desks. The building was freezing, suggesting that the heaters had only just been turned on, and so I shivered. Part of it was the crude patch job on my shoulder, which was terrible; black thread on white fabric with loose, sloppy stitches that left spots of flesh exposed. I sighed. If I was an unfashionable outcast _before _I'd slept on a park bench, what was I now? Homeless? Trashy? A few other, more obscene words flew through my head. The blurred reflection in the window had eyes the size of North Dakota that were red and irritated. I'd done way too much crying in the past few days. Turning away, I hugged my book bag to my chest and slumped on the floor against the wall.

Silently I took out a homework assignment I'd neglected from the day before and started it, making chicken scratches on the page that replaced my usually decent handwriting. My grades were probably slipping now more than ever, which wasn't very fortunate if I wanted to gain whatever future I'd wanted. And now home life was twice as awkward, what with my dad nearly turning himself into a lecher. How did the world expect me to keep up with all this? I wasn't the superhero I was supposed to be - I wasn't ready. I wasn't good enough.

_The rest of your team has to deal with the same sorts of things. You're not the only one, okay?_

Ryou's words chimed like a bell in my head. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ignore his adage-like words. What was I supposed to be feeling? Thinking? _Doing_? My head spun from the distress and lack of sleep, and I soon drifted into a light, dreamless nap.

Footsteps woke me short after. They were rapid and overly boisterous for so early in the day, obviously those of a student. I opened my eyes to first see shiny black shoes, then uniform pants, a torso, and sure enough to please the horror within me, a twin set of chocolate truffles with stars and pupils stuck in them, glittering down at me like I was some kind of specimen in a zoo. His floppy hair covered nearly half his face, because he was leaning over.

I groaned. What sort of trick of fate was this?

"You're early, Kobayashi," Kichiro observed in his usual way. I shut my eyes again and pressed my head into my knees.

"I'm still asleep on the park bench, and this is a nightmare…"

I heard him scuffle down into a sitting position by my side. "Baka. What are you talking about?" When I didn't answer, he poked his finger into my side and I yelped. He laughed. "Jeez! You're weird, as always."

"I hate morning people."

"Oh, I get it. You're still sleepy."

I hugged my knees tighter. "Why are you here so early, Takamine?" I asked, for no particular reason. There was a pause, and he said, "I could ask you the same thing."

"Humph. You could."

"Well, then, why are you? You're always insanely late. Sensei hates you for it, you know. Is that why you're here? To make up for your bail yesterday?"

_Gee, thanks_. He had an odd knack of pointing out things I didn't want to hear. I turned my head thirty degrees to the left where he was sitting and looked at him with one eye. "I didn't bail," I lied quietly. He looked at me skeptically for a moment, then shrugged. "Then why?"

"Nothing special. I woke up early. You?"

"…You're so freaky."

Not much of an answer, but I said nothing to chide him, impatient as I was. He grinned at me, showing off perfect, white teeth that belonged to a model. I felt a stab of despair in the pit of my stomach. The way people could be so idiotic and so gorgeous at the same time baffled me. And why was is that I had come across so many beautiful folks lately? It was like suddenly I had been engulfed into an alien world of good-looking people with outlandish personalities. As if life were laughing at me for being plain. Ryou, Keiichiro, and all of the Mews… plus _him_, who, for reasons I still didn't get, was still taking it upon himself to talk to me. And so he continued, "Why did you leave yesterday?"

I don't know what did it, but I told the truth. The words popped out of my mouth without much hestitation, and somehow it didn't concern me much. I guess because I knew it would sound like sarcasm to him.

"I'm an overly cute superhuman cat girl, and I had a crisis to attend to for my hunky boss."

He thought I'd cracked a sort of joke. A funny one, apparently, because he started chuckling madly for a rather lengthy duration until I nudged him in the side to shut him up. Even then he was still wheezing.

"Ah ha! Now, that's fresh. I'm sorry… Ha ha… I just had a hard time imagining that."

_Welcome to my world. _I shifted uneasily.

"Ha, um. Yeah."

"I mean, no offense, but you're _way_ too haughty to be a cat girl."

This I found relatively amusing myself. That's what _I_ had thought. And yet, the irony… I bit my lip, trying to keep myself from saying anything that would possibly give me away, and also to keep from laughing. "I see."

I turned my head back into the pitch darkness of my lap, closing my eyes. Maybe I could snag a few more minutes of sleep… Kichiro kept on talking, regardless.

"But, you know what? You know what's weird, since you brought it up?"

"Hn?"

"You remember that bigass bird, and the Mew chick?"

_Oh, no_. My stomach twisted a bit, and a sudden wave of nausea made me grab the hem of my skirt. Maybe I had underestimated Kichiro - maybe he was smarter than I thought he was, maybe I had screwed up… What would happen if he knew? If there were anyone who could crush me, it would be him. I swallowed hard and forced my voice to work.

"W-what about it?"

Kichiro stalled, like he wasn't quite sure what he was going to say. During that time I could sense he was trying to gather words, because he shifted a little in an uneasy way beside me before going on.

"You look… I mean, don't think I'm being weird, or anything, because it's not like that. I just noticed, like, the way your face and body look…"

Curious, I looked up slowly, seeing that he was facing the other direction. Only the back of his head and neck were visible. I faintly observed a pair of red ears, although it could have been a trick of the light. _Go on_, I thought, wondering exactly what it was he was getting at.

"That is, you sort of look like that girl, or whatever she was. I don't know if she was really a human girl. She could have been _anything_."

I must have been grinning, or something, because when he turned to face me he suddenly turned indignant. "Don't look at me like that! I _told_ you not to take it in a weird way!"

"I look like panther girl?"

"Was _that_ what she was?" he asked, scratching his neck awkwardly. "I guess so… sorta figured she was more than just a normal cat girl… her ears were too round… Yeah, a panther." He paused to squint at me.

"How'd you know? I thought you were hiding in a book store."

"Read it on the internet."

"Huh. Figures. Anyway, you look a little like her. Just a little, though. Her eyes were really different… and her hair. Plus, you'd never wear anything like that."

_Try me. _

"Wear anything like what?"

This was obviously an odd question for him, because he turned sort of red and shrugged, scratching his neck again. His eyes went to the floor. "Oh, Jesus. I don't know. That's girl stuff."

I took this opportunity to pretend I was interested - which I was… but in a much different way. I tried to look convincing, possibly cute. I sidled up against his shoulder.

"Can't you tell me a little? I missed all the action."

"Well, it was all frilly and ribbon-y. And… short."

I laughed, unable to contain myself. "And I'd never wear anything like that?"

He went redder, shrugging again. "Not from what I can tell… you really don't seem like the type."

"Was she pretty?"

The had question slipped. I wasn't really planning on asking anything like that, but it had wormed out, completely set on escaping the cage of my lips. I distinctly remembered the "Thanks. You're hot" with a small smile and awaited his response. He glared at me for a short moment.

"What's it to you?"

"I'm only curious."

"Fine. She was pretty - but that doesn't mean _you_ are."

Easy for _him_ to say. I grinned again, suddenly feeling satisfied. He scowled, tomato red. "I said, _don't take it the wrong way_!"

Insuppressible giggles erupted from me. God, if only he knew! I liked to imagine the astonished look on his face if he discovered I was a Mew Mew, knowing he would probably feel like a fool. And when Kichiro felt like a fool, I was happy. He was still my number one enemy, after all, somehow. It wasn't like I was starting to _like_ the guy. Heaven forbid I should make friends with someone so vile, right? _I still hate you, I still hate _you, I chanted as he waved his arms around angrily, obviously peeved. "_Hey! You're being cocky!_"

"I'm - I'm not!"

"Yes you are! I didn't mean it like that!"

Somehow the whole thing amounted into a giant wave of laughter and shouting, a merry din filling the halls. We didn't realize how loud we were being - and I must have been distracted, or getting carried away - because it was too late when I saw Namiko stalling motionless down the hall, her face unreadable.

-

It all happened really fast after that, from what I remember. I jumped to my feet, falling silent instantly, and Kichiro looked up at me and went, in his typical idiotic manner, "What's wrong?"

Namiko stiffened, like she was tensing for a fight. I tried to approach her, but she somehow was already at my arm and dragging me around a corner, and Kichiro was a blur of a speck at the door. I felt her slam me up against a classroom door.

"YOU JUST DON'T LEARN, DO YOU?"

The volume of her voice made me jolt. Her face was twisted. I opened my mouth to speak but she cut me off violently.

"Why did you lie?"

"I didn't-"

A slap echoed on the walls. I didn't realize what had happened until pain sank in, seconds late. The blow struck my face with a force I would never have expected from petit Namiko.

"DON'T LIE TO ME!"

I was utterly speechless. Namiko's face was wet with tears. She pointed at me, hand trembling. "I trusted you," she whispered with a ravaged voice. "I trusted you that you wouldn't go and stab me in the back, and for what?" I blinked, my fingers finding the place where her hand had met my face.

"You're worthless! A dirty, poor, lying _whore_!"

"What…?"

"I didn't want to believe Yumi, but she was right!"

Yumi Yamada, that devil of a girl. What did she hold against me? Was this truly all about Kichiro?

"Yumi… what did Yumi say…?"

"Jesus, Sumono, don't play innocent! She and her friends saw you in the park last night."

"What does that -"

"Out in town, during the bloody middle of the night, with your shirt hanging wide open! What the hell is _wrong _with you?"

"Nami…"

"Shut up! I don't want to hear it! You said you needed a job a while back, but I expected more from you than a common street whore!"

Her words had a razor-edged affect, and I crumpled. The fire I usually held in disputes was extinguished. It was like Namiko was holding water above my flame, which she poured onto me like a thundering, merciless waterfall of anger as I struggled. _I am not a whore. _But the words just didn't come.

"Man, just when I was thinking, 'Sumono wouldn't do a thing like that', I see you with Kichiro-kun!"

I attempted to say something several times, but she wouldn't let me.

"Both of you meeting here early, just the two of you, all alone - I bet you think you're really clever, you slut, but you're _not_! I knew it all along… Yumi was right all along."

"W-_What_?"

"You really are totally _worthless_. You're irresponsible, ugly and destitute. Nobody needs you, all right? So you can stop screwing everyone you meet!"

And with that, she turned on her heel and tromped away. I felt tears at my eyes. I slid down the door and collapsed onto my knees, hand still on my cheek. _God, what have I done?_

(NekoBun: It seems as though this is getting rather dramatic. Oo Hey, that's why it's the _blues_, right…?)

-

I must have stared at the gray, tiled floor for minutes. Then, Kichiro was there, next to me. "What the hell just happened?" he asked, sounding bewildered. He stooped down to my level and rested a hand on my shoulder, something that I ordinarily would have flinched away from, but somehow now comforted me a great deal. Why was his company something good now? As if Namiko were an undesired friend to me? Why did it seem like she was miles away, something not to be remembered? Her words echoed in my head, over and over, like they were stuck on "repeat". _Worthless. Dirty. Ugly. A poor, lying whore. _

I shook my head.

Things had totally reversed. Kichiro was suddenly acting as if he were my companion, like we'd been close for years, and Namiko… well, I didn't know. What did this make Namiko? An opponent? A threat?

"What was she yelling about?"

I looked at Kichiro, half-blinded by tears. I was in an iron glitch. If I became his friend, I would at least have some form of company at school, which would always be helpful. And yet, also, Namiko would hate me forever. If I ignored him, I risked everything, but Namiko would probably stop being so terrible. I might never get to be her friend again, but I would be safe - and I was in enough danger already.

"Are you… okay?"

"I will be."

So, that was it, then. No more Namiko, and no more Kichiro, if I'd even had him as a friend in the first place. My cheek ached as I thought about it, as if it had a mind of its own. Why was this all happening so suddenly, all at once? What kind of person thought I was capable of taking all of this on in a single blow? Everything had turned its back on me. My dad, my new identity, and now, my _friends_, too…?

I choked. Couldn't we all just get along? Was it so hard? If we could all get over all this pettiness… Straightening myself, I forced myself to wipe away the wetness around my eyes. Kichiro was still bent over me, like he'd been there during the whole thing. He watched me, looking puzzled. I sniffed, knowing I now was going to have to try and make something clear to him.

"Kichiro, I'm going to have to talk to you about something."

"Uh …Okay."

"I'm sure, you are aware by now, that there are a lot of people out there who like you."

"Yeah."

"And these people like you so much that they are going to great lengths to protect you."

"From what?"

I rolled my eyes, jamming my thumbs at my chest. "From people like me, you dope."

"Why?"

"Oh, use your brain, if you have one!" I snapped, impatient. At times deciding whether Kichiro was being genuine or being rude was impossible, and it unnerved me. "Do I have to give you an example?"

"Okay."

"All right, fine. Hmm… Let's say… I'm one of the most popular girls in school, okay?"

He glanced at me strangely.

"…But you're not."

He _really_ wasn't using his brain. I sighed, rubbing my temples. This was where Kichiro's famous stupidity came in. "Yes, I happen to know that. This is strictly hypothetical. Now, close your eyes, and imagine that I am the most popular girl in school."

He did so, only after giving me an amused look.

"Okay, now I want you to imagine that I have a fan club, all boys and possibly a few lesbians."

Kichiro snorted and opened his eyes again.

"But that's redicul -"

I reached over and pushed down his eyelids with my index fingers.

"No arguing. _A fan club_. For God's sake, Kichiro, it's not that hard. More than likely all the people within this fan club are extraordinarily head-over-heels in love with me, and will do anything to keep me single, because if I were to start spending a lot of my time with someone in particular, that would raise a lot of suspicion."

Kichiro made a contemplative face. "…I think… I get it."

I smiled and clapped my hands together. Success, possibly? "Good. So, what you have to next is take this strictly hypothetical situation of mine, and twitch it around so that it's _your_ situation."

It took a moment. His lids fluttered open, expression suddenly grave. "That's why Namiko hit you," he said slowly. "She thinks that… oh, God." Kichiro's hand went to his face. "No wonder."

"…Yeah, exactly."

"So all I have to do is _really_ stop being popular."

My jaw unfastened, mouth popping open, horrified.

"God, no! You can't do that - it would - it would…"

"It would what?"

"What do you mean, 'it would what'? It would distort the entire _cosmos_! Santa Maria… Things like that aren't altered so easily as you think. It shouldn't be done."

He looked up at me, face a bit frustrated. "You've changed, Kobayashi. Just days ago, you wouldn't have cared. Now, for some reason… it's like you've become a totally different person."

I blinked. I tried to argue, but I found that I couldn't. He was _right_. Why did I care about the social universe suddenly? When had that ever been a concern to me…?

"Well… that is…"

"Eh?"

I waved my hands around nervously, dismissing the point.

"Never mind. I suppose you're right. But you can't just decide to make everything… different. All you have to do is go back to the way it was before - you know, when we hated each other unquestionably and I wanted to be the sure cause of your painful, elongated death. Like that."

"Oh."

"Yeah - we just have to stop all this ooey-gooey friendship whatnot. It's simply not natural."

"I see."

"Exactly. Easy as that."

Moments later we both somehow managed to spontaneously break into tight, nervous laughter. "Heh heh. I see," Kichiro said again, appearing to be positively mystified by this. I nodded, trying not to giggle. "Yes. All we have to do is hate each other."

"Easy."

"Heh. Very easy."

There was an awkward pause filled with introspective silence. After a bit Kichiro said, while staring at the floor, "You know, I never hated you."

This surprised me considerably. Heat immediately sprang into my face. "Wha…? Seriously?" He smiled at the floor, shaking his head.

"Never did. Just thought you were sort of creepy and pissy, is all."

Within a second, I had gone from mellow to completely flustered, fighting the panther ears and tail that had an inconvenient instinct for embarrassment, popping up just when I desired them least. "B-but, you were always so… I don't know."

"Rude?"

"Well. Yeah… and egotistic and jerky and inconsiderate."

"People do weird things when they're…"

Then, suddenly, he stopped. Before I could even open my mouth to question him, he said loudly, "You have a bruise on your face."

My fingers felt my cheek again, which was now beginning to feel swollen and tender.

"Oh. Y-yeah, but -"

"Class will be starting soon."

He stood up, and I followed soon after, perplexed. "It's still early," I said after checking my watch. He was already walking away, so I had to chase after him to keep up. "Um, hey! Do weird things when they're _what_?"

"It's nothing."

"Won't you tell me what-"

"And plus, we're not supposed to be communicating with all this ooey-gooey friendship whatnot, remember?"

He winked and strode away, leaving me baffled. My face burned, not only from the bruise. He was so bizarre, the way at one moment he was like a confused little boy, and the next… Well, I didn't even _know _what he was next. But certainly not a little boy. I was beginning to notice how guys could change moods in at an extremely rapid rate - it was mind-boggling and slightly irksome. I felt foolish even thinking about it.

Fate, in an abnormal approach, was helping me. It was actually fortunate that he chose to leave at that moment, I suddenly realized; for I could feel two very inhuman black ears sticking up from my head, and a tail from beneath my skirt. Somehow that only made me redder, and more embarrassed. Why was _this_ happening?…Ooey gooey friendship?

_Maybe we really _should_ stop with all this…_

-

It was rather odd from there on out. Classes seemed normal, surprisingly, with the exception of the awkward quietness that surrounded me. Time passed quickly. I sat alone during lunch, deciding to eat inside. I had mixed emotions about everything. It was true, I was rather isolated, but in an unfamiliar way. You could say I was left alone all day, that I was on my own… at least, that's the way it would have looked to someone on the outside. _Look at that girl with the messed-up shirt, off by herself. Nobody talks to her or goes near her - did she do something bad? Maybe she's depressed. _Etcetera. And even though ordinarily I would have found this kind of disheartening, it was different now.

Because I wasn't truly alone. Even if Namiko hated me, even if there were more than likely hideous rumors of my nighttime activities flying around the school, even if my dad was bordering on criminal, and even if I couldn't talk to Kichiro with anyone standing in a mile radius, I wasn't alone. Because this gift, or this curse, I was somehow stuck forever with this _new_ group of people, and knowing that they would always be by my side… well, having realized this, I felt myself coming close to tears. Never alone, even if physically detached, I still had them. They were my like my kin, and we were all fighting for the same thing. Wasn't there a word for that? What was the term for people who were always by your side, whether you wanted them or not? I blinked when the truth dawned on me, and its obviousness was earth-crushing and nearly refreshing. _Friends._

I had friends. _Real ones_! Insane, crazy and strange, but still amazing, and they were all mine. Mine to keep. Mine to love and support. They weren't far away at all, and we were bound together by something inhumanly powerful. Never separated. Suddenly, the world seemed boundless. I didn't have much, but it was something. And something was more than enough.

So, I wasn't sitting next to anyone. I wasn't gossiping with the other girls two tables away, and I had no form of conversation with a boy sitting across from me, and the only time I saw people looking at me was when Namiko and a few of her fan club buddies started hissing in each others' ears and glancing over in my direction. I wasn't loved by these people. But what was the harm? What would their attention do to help me? Give me anger issues, make me self-conscious, and give me headache. That's what it would do.

I ate my rice in peace, taking in every piece of meat I could get my chopsticks on. I hadn't bothered with any forms of vegetables, seeing as when I ate them, they made me feel queasy. The tea I kept in a thermos was drained out quickly, and before I knew it I had finished my lunch. Everyone else was still eating. I laid my head in my arms, resting against the table and closing my eyes. These days, napping was essential.

I jumped when something by my hip started vibrating angrily. "What…?" My cell phone, again! Gritting my teeth, I reached into my handbag and fumbled slightly to turn it off. I dare not pull it out to check the caller ID, seeing as the teacher (who was staring at us all with the beady eyes of a demon-possessed hawk), could catch me with it.

Thankfully, going to the bathroom was allowed at this time. If it was Ryou, I would have no trouble talking to him. But then… was the bathroom a safe place to do it? Last time, Yumi had caught me and given me the unfortunate experience of being in her company. But Ryou might need my help again… I sighed, unable to think of another place to do it. _Come on, Sumono. _What were the chances of her being there again?

Nonchalantly, I excused myself from the classroom and walked off into the hall, bag in hand. When I reached the bathroom, I stopped at the door, gulping. Something about this was uncomfortable - and out of place. _It's only a bathroom. Go on, open the door._ After inhaling, I did so, and rounded a corner.

I caught a sickeningly familiar scent in the air, and I'm not talking your standard public bathroom scent. I mean the terribly subtle smell of flowers and fruit wafting around the air. Perfume. Girls' perfume - and cheap, too. I wrinkled my nose and squinted into the room. And there, like a bad omen, stood the granter of all my suspicions. When I saw her, I made myself swear I'd never ignore my animal instinct ever again. My stomach twisted.

Yumi's long hair swayed as she advanced slightly. She was alone, and she was holding a small, pink perfume bottle in hand, as if she were planning to attack me with it. I grimaced; in the other hand was a cell phone.

-

"Oh, hello! I see you're just as stupid as ever."

I could only stare at her blankly. _You have _got_ to be kidding me._

"Excuse me?"

"Do you honestly go into the bathroom to return every call you get? Who are you expecting to call you, a client?"

"Piss off."

I turned into a stall, firmly closing the door. She had honestly gone to the trouble of hiding out in the girls' bathroom and calling me on my cell phone just to give me a hard time. Did she have something better to do with her time? What sort of thing was se trying to achieve by grinding my face into the ground, anyway? I could still hear her voice, although the advantage of not being able to see her face was nice. She was laughing gaily, her cruel voice high-pitched and utterly feminine.

"No, seriously. How many do you get a night?"

I almost fell off the john. My face went from pale to beet red in an instant. Within as much time I had flushed the toilet and literally kicked the door of the stall open with a gigantic booming noise, not even bothering to mess with the lock. The metal warped and the top hinge snapped, the door crashing to the side, revealing a very startled Yumi.

She recomposed herself rather quickly, immediately going from surprised to mocking. I didn't have a lot of time to pay attention to what she looked like, because all I could think about was hurting her. Images of her head smashing into an anvil flew through my mind. My fists instinctively tightened into little balls, and it took every ounce of my strength not to throw myself at her. _Don't do it, don't do it, don't stoop to her level!_

Yumi's overconfident grin grew - in size, and in maliciousness. "God, you really _are_ stupid. You were suspended before, and already you've destroyed some school property. I wonder what your homeroom teacher will think about that? Improper conduct - both in school and out! You're on a roll, Sumono-chan."

"I honestly don't know what you're getting at."

She snorted and sprayed herself yet again with the perfume, waving the aroma around in a luxurious fashion. "Yes you do, otherwise you wouldn't have gone and pulled a stunt like that." She gestured to the door, which was bent and set askew. "Stop playing innocent, because it's _so_ very tiresome."

"Oh. I see. And, naturally, you would _never_ do that, would you, Yumi?"

"Naturally. I'm not a _whore_, you see."

I had heard that word more than enough in one day. Squaring my shoulders, I forced myself to keep my head high. I could let her think. Let her spread rumors about me - but I would not let her insult me to my face. Namiko, maybe, because she had been my friend. But not this girl, or whatever she was supposed to be. I was much too prideful for that.

"If I hear that _word_ associated with _my name _escape from your mouth one more time, I'm going to rip out your tongue with a pair of pliers," I told her in an oddly even tone. It wasn't the kind of threat one would expect - low, hissy, and aggressive, if you will - but it sounded frank, nearly cheerful… and creepy. Very creepy. Sort of out-of-place in the conversation. Yumi looked at me with her over-done make-up eyes, giving me a skeptical expression. "Will you, now?"

"Yes, with gladness and singleness of heart. Now, I would like you to tell me why it is, exactly, that you're harassing me like this."

"You _know_ why."

"Yumi, I believe _you're_ the one being stupid. If I knew, I wouldn't be asking, would I?"

She flashed one of her grins at me, which I saw as a sort of sad cover-up for what she was really feeling. She crossed her arms, a traditional defensive gesture. "Well, first of all, you're acting like a spoiled brat. Running around screwing everything up just because you're in a bad mood - it's really quite annoying. Look at that door, for example. And walking around during the night, like some prostitute. You can't keep doing shit like that… it makes you look terrible."

I came closer to her. "What did you tell Namiko, Yumi?"

Her eyes narrowed, and she said, "The truth."

_What in God's name? _Infuriated, I thrust my fist into the soap holder sitting on the wall next to me, which cracked and pinched open the skin on my knuckles. Soap crept out onto my hand, burning in the cuts. "It sure as hell was NOT the truth! You have no idea why I was out there!"

"With your shirt hanging open? What do you expect me to believe, someone raped you?"

"Will you just mind your own damn business for once, Yamada? Something happened to my shirt, okay? And why were _you_ out so late, anyway?"

Yumi shoved my arm (which was still pinning the soap holder) aside and moved past me to the door. "Oh, just forget it. You're too bloody angry to be around. I need to get back to class, Sumono."

"Don't run away! Let's get to the point. I know who this is about."

She turned, smug face faltering slightly. She knew very well who I was talking about.

"He… Kichiro-kun has nothing to do with this."

"Don't give me that! He has everything to do with it. Why else would you be wasting time in here with me, if it weren't for your own efficiency?"

Yumi quivered in an odd way. Whether it was with anger or disgust, it was hard to tell. "You're wrong," she hissed, suddenly aggressive. Was it that she was ashamed? Ashamed of her liking for Kichiro…? But why? It wasn't like she'd much of an attempt to cover it up before…

"Why do you hoard him like that? How do you see him?" I asked, trying to seem calmer than before.

"What does it matter to you?" Yumi barked. "I thought I told you to keep away from him, but you can't even do that properly, can you?"

"God dammit, he's nothing to me! I don't like him in that way, and I _really_ don't get why you keep taking everything so seriously!"

"Shut up, just shut up!" Yumi stamped her foot and waved her arms about, obviously frustrated. I fell silent. Yumi rubbed her temples dramatically before spitting out, "Get away from me, you piece of trash."

Letting the trash comment slide, I said slowly, "I just want to know why you hate me being… with him."

Her face twisted, turning sour, and she screamed, "_Because he's mine_!"

Stunned, I took a step backward. Her possessiveness frightened me a bit - but more than that, it angered me. Kichiro wasn't a _thing _she could have. He was a human being - thinking, breathing, feeling - and he was capable of making his own decisions. Maybe he was a bit of a fool, and at times very rude, but he had a better side to him, which was something, I then realized, I had come to enjoy. I _enjoyed_ Kichiro.

Upon thinking about this, my mouth had opened to say something, but now I can't remember what it was I was going to say, because I thought better of it at the very last second. Arguing wouldn't help anything, would it? Kichiro wasn't mine to fight for, either. I didn't own him, either. I inhaled. I wasn't about to get into some dumb bitch fight over a person I had no true love for (not in that manner, anyway).

Still, hearing her say that, I felt myself unfold. Yumi, honest to goodness, simply adored the guy. She wanted him all to herself - she wanted to love him in peace. I held up my hands.

"I just want you to know that I don't like him, and he's all yours. Okay? I'm not interested in Kichiro. He's only my friend."

Yumi looked disgusted. "You don't deserve him as a friend! You don't deserve _anyone_! You're spineless and angry and you have no damn boundaries! So just stay away from him, before it rubs off on him, because he's too good for you!"

"Yumi--"

But she was gone, slamming the door behind her. I stood in thought for a few moments. Upside-down. It truly _was_ upside-down. No, I didn't deserve Kichiro; it was probably true. I probably didn't _deserve_ anything. But somehow, I was still receiving these things I oughtn't have. I still had a little of it all. I was still running into a select few golden opportunities that I didn't _merit_. It was the oddest thing I think had ever encountered. I, Kobayashi Sumono, dirt-poor fist fighter with a chip on my shoulder, was the receiver of good fortune.

It's pointless to sit about and think why this was happening to me. If I wasn't worthy of having a group of friends like the Mews, why was it happening, anyway? No one knows, and no one ever will, I think. It could have happened to anyone, and I'm no more special than anyone else because it did. It was all tipping back and forth in a gigantic, figurative game of poker; I never knew exactly what the player across from me had up their sleeve, and I could never guess who was going to turn out the successor.

When I really thought about it, nobody deserved a thing, on this earth. The only way to truly survive is to watch out for yourself and know what to steal. We take what we get and run with it, despite the fact that we may not need it. Humans are all dirty in that respect. Greedy. We reap what we sew, but it doesn't always mean it will come around in the same context.

And, even if the Mew Mews and fighting for the justice of the human race was _above_ me - and even if it wasn't what I _deserved_ - I was going to keep my hold on it. For the first time in my life, doing the selfish thing wasn't the bad thing. I was going to be greedy. I was going to keep right on talking to Kichiro, not matter how much _better _was than me, no matter how _bad _I was. Because, you know what? In this life, when you discover a shred of luck in a day that's spiraling slowly downward, you sure as hell had better grab that shred and keep it all to yourself.

---

Okay, bit of a sucky chapter there, more coming soon, I promise! Sorry it took to long - the excuses are as usual. Too much to do, not enough time, holidays, chores, school work, being booted off the computer because it isn't actually mine… Ha ha… Well, see you around, I s'pose! Stay tuned!

-NekoBun


	13. Spill

**Panther Blues**

Uhm… hello. Oo

I decided to pick my fan fiction back up……? (Extremely nervous chuckle)

Seriously. After a YEAR of school school school, homework homework homework, blah blah blah, I **now** have free time! Is that not amazing? Ehh? …Um… I, um. …Yeah. …I know you don't believe me, all right? XD We all have the same excuses when it comes to neglecting our stories.

So I've decided it's time to stick in a pick-up chapter here so that I can get back into the flow. Y'know?

Please don't skin me alive. TT Life is unfair, and I've only had time to update this on very lucky chunks of free time… which does NOT happen a lot. Anyway, thank you so much for all the reviews and whatnot! You guys are the greatest! I was amazed to find a couple reviews that are new, even after allll this time. I hope my writing continues to improve and entertain you wonderful peeps. Haha. (And we all know the number thirteen is bad luck. I blame superstition.)

Well, on with the show!

"_Love is nothing more than a contagious disease which must be avoided at all costs - it is very dangerous, a temporary lapse in judgment which causes victims to do very idiotic things and yet believe that they're saving the world, or some such nonsense."  
_-My friend, speculating his least favorite emotion.

**Chapter Thirteen!**

School nearly came speeding to its end, and I picked up my bags and bolted from the building as fast as I could. I had to work, after all, and the faster I got there the better. The truth was, I'd spent the entire day deep in thought about my circumstances with Kichiro and his fan girls that I was sick of the topic - I had to get my mind elsewhere (even if "elsewhere" meant fighting off deranged, mutated animals or busting my ass working at a café). Surprisingly, I escaped pretty well. I didn't run into anyone I knew, and so I was able to slip out onto the street and flee from my hell-bound school relatively scot-free.

The train ride to the café seemed to last for ages. I stared at the whirring lights outside the window, thinking heavily. Minutes ticked by, just as they had before. I fiddled with the key chain on my purse as my thoughts slipped over to a certain Aryan boy. Was it possible to miss someone you'd seen just the night before? Why did that seem like it happened years ago? Absent-mindedly I let myself blush, drifting off into an imaginary world for minutes on end, until I was awoken abruptly by being accidentally elbowed by the man standing next to me. I almost yelled, but composed myself at the last minute. No need stirring things up in a public train…

When at last I was freed from the moving claustrophobic chambers stuffed with people, I made a beeline for the café. It was actually more of a beeline for the people _inside_ the café, and not the building itself… Regardless, I was there within the next few minutes, panting wildly as I crashed through the front doors and straight into a poor, non-suspecting Lettuce, who was carrying a stack of dirty dishes.

"Ahh!"

We both came crashing onto the hard, tiled floor with a resounding clatter of glass, which went flying across the tiles in tiny, sharp shards. Things within the café grew rather awkward and silent for a moment, customers peering over to stare at us with miffed expressions. I pulled myself off of her just as quickly as I had come.

"Oh my God, Lettuce, I'm sorry! Are you all right? Did the glass get you?"

She sat up slowly, with a small, pained smile on her face. "It's okay," she said in that hushed whisper of her voice. "I'm used to falling down, so it stopped hurting a long time ago."

"Well, that's good to know!" I chuckled. After helping her to her feet, I bent to pick up a few of the larger bits of broken plates. Lettuce joined me, but we didn't get much of anything done to clear the mess away before the sound of a certain overly-assertive boss guy's intonation caught us both off guard.

"What happened here? Lettuce, _again_?"

I jumped, then spun around to see the Aryan looming dangerously overhead with his arms crossed. Lettuce opened her mouth to speak, looking as though she were about to present herself as the cause for the mess. I hastily cut her off before she could take the blame. "My fault," I said quickly, suddenly starting to feel hot in the face. "I accidentally knocked into her on my way in. I wasn't being careful."

Ryou squinted at me, seeming a bit miffed at first - and then, oddly, broke into a gorgeous lopsided smile.

"Oh, I see. Right then, you get to clean it up for Miss Midorikawa."

It was only fair - I nodded and started to go for a broom, but he stopped me. "_After_ you get into uniform, of course." I blinked. _Oh, right. The Thing_. How could I forget? The bane of my existence, which was now standard daily wardrobe. Somehow, I got the feeling he was only saying that to make me aggravated. Why was it he enjoyed doing that so much? Glaring, I hissed, "_Of course_."

-

Ryou disappeared behind the back doors soon after, obviously preoccupied by something on his computer system. His mind was somewhere else, probably considering strategies to encounter these bizarre Kirema Anima inbreeds he and Keiichiro had discovered. I didn't have much time to consider it, because Mint handed me my gray uniform and ushered me into the restroom, as if she was making sure I wouldn't resist my commands.

Despite the refutable outfit I reluctantly climbed into, I was happy. I felt pleased when I was at the café, with my friends, even if I was being underpaid. I sighed as I made my way back out from the bathroom into the open of the café, where the plates had been smashed. Taking a broom and dustpan, I quickly got to work, sweeping up glittering bits of dishes. I tried to ignore the extreme shortness of my dress, desperately reminding myself that I was also wearing bloomers. Nothing to worry about. And yet I still felt like a walking cupcake.

Ichigo rushed noisily out of the kitchen with a trash bag. "Quickly, work quickly! Aoyama-kun's going to be here any moment!" She screeched to a stop next to where I was kneeling, working to clear the shards away. "Oh _no_!" She cried. "Another accident? Jeez, how perfect… where's Lettuce?" I looked up to see her standing over me, arms akimbo.

"Erm, Ichigo-chan, it was my doing."

"Oh… well, here. Let me help you, so it'll go faster! I hate it when Aoyama-kun sees the café all hectic and messy like this…"

She yanked the broom out of my hands before I could protest and started sweeping madly, as if her life depended upon it. I hurriedly followed her around with a dustpan, struggling to keep up with the mad cleaner. "Who's Aoyama?" I asked cautiously. Must have been somebody important.

"Aoyama Masaya! My boyfriend. He's visiting today - hey, _faster_! I've got to take the trash out, too!"

I blinked as I absent-mindedly picked up my pace with the dustpan. Boyfriend, huh? As a matter of fact, it sounded familiar. Ryou had mentioned something like that before, hadn't he?

"Oh. I see. What does he look like?"

"He's adorable and he's got an amazing smile, but no time for questions! Hurry and get that pile up, right there by your foot. We have to get this place nice and -- say, you have a big splotch on your face, did you know?"

Ichigo dumped the last of the glass into the pan, which she then snagged from me and emptied into the trash bag, and afterwards bolted away yelling something about needing a raise. I stared after her, perplexed. Where did she get all that energy from?

Mint approached me from behind, giggling in quiet delight. "Having fun?" she questioned lightly. I turned to face her, dropping. "She's _insane_," I said weakly. Mint smiled contentedly and sipped tea from the cup she was holding. "Yes, she's quite the nutcase, isn't she? You get used to it after a while, though."

I eyed the leisurely Mint and her teacup suspiciously. "I don't suppose you do a lot of work around here," I said. Mint looked immediately abashed. "Of course I do," she said defensively. "I make things better by just _being_ here." I tried not to roll my eyes as she turned up her nose and pranced away to sit in her usual seat.

When finally the café was clean enough for her (or rather, _Aoyama-kun_), Ichigo calmed down a bit, but she was still peeved about having to work so hard to get things clean.

"I'm always afraid Aoyama-kun will arrive before it's all presentable. I bust my butt working every day in this place," she grumbled to me while I was clearing off a table. "And I swear, Shirogane'll grow a mustache before he pays us more!" I laughed to myself, both at Ichigo's hysteric facial expression, and trying to imagine Ryou with a mustache.

"But still," Ichigo said, "It's really nice to have another employee to make the load lighter." She winked at me, and then went to help Pudding with a large platter. Nice? Me? Suddenly, I felt warm inside, a feeling of joy that was almost foreign to me. It was indescribably pleasant to receive kind words from someone after a day of flat-out hell. I smiled, radiant. _Thank you_.

-

Aoyama Masaya was two minutes and twenty-seven seconds late, according to Mint. When he came in through the front doors and was promptly glomped by Pudding, who was ecstatic with his presence as soon as he set foot in the building. Soon after, Ichigo came barreling out of the back room and tossed Pudding away, only to throw her own arms around his neck.

"Masaya-chan! You're here!"

"Good afternoon, Ichigo."

"I missed you so much! Let me seat you! What do you feel like eating?"

And she led him to an available table, where the other Mews congregated to greet him as well. They all seemed to know him very well. I trailed behind them, staring curiously over their multicolored heads. He had black hair and perky dark eyes that always seemed to be shining. He was around my age, maybe younger, and I soon discovered that he was incredibly smiley, almost to an irksome degree. A typically happy person, from what I could tell, and perfect match for cute, chipper Ichigo. And, apparently, he also knew we were all Mew Mews.

Suddenly Ichigo stopped talking to Masaya and pushed me through the barricade of waitresses. "This is our latest installment, Aoyama-kun! Isn't she pretty?" she whispered excitedly. "Kobayashi Sumono. Sumono-chan, this is Aoyama Masaya!"

"Hajimemashite, Sumono-san."

He stood and bowed. Embarrassed, I bowed slightly. Then, because often I somehow don't feel comfortable with bowing, I instinctively stuck out my right hand, which I had unwittingly done before with Kichiro. However, unlike Kichiro, Masaya didn't stare at my hand with an annoyed expression - he took it and shook it without much pretense.

"Yes, nice to meet you," I said, a little too late. He smiled anyway.

Ichigo stepped between us and started chattering. "Sumono is infused with black panther DNA. Shirogane-san says she's a natural!"

…A natural _what_, exactly?

"I've never seen her fight Kirema Anima before, but she's bound to be good!"

Red, I stared at my toes, occasionally dipping my head in acknowledgement as Ichigo spoke. Introductions have never been my strong point. Naturally, I'm not all that social, in case it's not apparent. "Sumono-chan, like I've said, Aoyama-kun is my boyfriend. We've been classmates for years!" Ichigo prattled. She looked up at Masaya. "Isn't that right?"

"That's right."

They held hands and began to stare deeply into each others' eyes, to which I smiled weakly, unable to think of anything to say, except for, "You're very lucky." From there, Pudding took Masaya's order and the hastily Mews dispersed, getting back to work. We had all taken the two's lovey-dovey behavior as a cue to leave.

The pace of table bussing soon had me panting. The café was always so busy! So many people, all relatively cranky, whining and waving their menus at you angrily when you didn't quite walk fast enough the serve them on time. Not to mention the fact that these insane superhero friends of mine were extremely inefficient waitresses… Pudding was always twirling dishes above her head, Ichigo was always screaming, Lettuce dropped something nearly every ten minutes, Zakuro's aloof behavior often had diners complaining angrily about "lack of servitude", and that darned Mint didn't do anything! It was the strangest group of employees I'd ever come across in my life.

Work went by so quickly that it was almost baffling when I saw the sun settling into the horizon. Customers had come and gone rapidly, and our booming afternoon business began to fade as the day ended. Masaya had left after an extensive, fond farewell from Ichigo and the rest of the girls, while I sat not too far away and watched as the boy walked out the door. Only three parties sat in the café now, and things had quieted down a lot.

I strolled past a large woman with a large child, who were both western-looking with tawny hair. The woman raised her hand and stopped me. She then gestured to her piggish-looking boy, who was wolfing down some chocolate cake. "Could he get another milk, miss?" she asked in slurred Japanese. I forced one of my best friendly smiles and bowed. "Absolutely, ma'am," I said, and promptly headed for the kitchen.

I poked my head in the door and hollered, "Hey, Akasaka-san, I need a milk, please!" Ordinarily, refills were accomplishable by simply using the pitchers which were located on a ledge by the door, but milk was not available in such a fashion. Keiichiro handed me a fresh glass, and I turned out of the door after thanking him. It was then I, as probably predicted by many of those reading, collided into something rather firm and fleshy, sending milk everywhere - onto my clothing and into my hair, as well as on the _thing_ into which I had walked.

"What-?"

Panther ears sprouted from my head, and a tail from the pack of my skirt, so quickly that it almost made it _more_ embarrassing. The Aryan gave me an unfathomable expression, as though he was both trying not to laugh at me, and was rather pissed at having been newly adorned with dairy products. The liquid was now dripping out of his hair and down his face, his blue eyes piercing brightly through the white. Of all the people I could have walked into - for the second time in a day - why, tell me, did it have to be _him_?

"Kobayashi…" he hissed in a low voice. My ears lowered in shame as I tried not to flail my arms around desperately.

"I… I am _so _sorry!"

"This is twice, if I am not correct."

"I-I know, I can't believe I did that… H-hold on a second…"

I yanked a towel from somewhere - I was so flustered, I can't remember where - and hurriedly began to clean him off. "G-gomen - I don't know what's wrong with me today, honestly - I got it all over the place, and your clothes… I'm so stupid - gomen nasai--"

Ryou reached up and stilled my hand where it had been wiping at his face. His hand was calloused and rough. I felt my heart start crashing into my ribcage with striking blows of both fear and adrenaline, as if it were trying to liberate itself of my chest. Again, I became hyperaware of the closeness between us - I could practically feel him breathing - thus automatically turning my face burning hot. "I'm fine," he said, taking my hand and slowly moving it away from his head. He somehow managed to free the towel from my shaking fingers, and began to return the favor of cleaning. "You've got more on you than I do, anyway," he said, flashing a signature grin.

My face was furiously warm. "P… please, I don't need… I mean - " I tried to push his hand away, but it didn't really work out. I just wound up holding onto the towel along with him. Slowly, he wiped away the milk that had gotten onto my face and neck. I fought the impulse to step nearer to him, ignoring my sudden drive to remove the leftover milk on his face with my mouth. Something about the shower of dairy dripping out of his hair and onto the floor made me lose my train of thought. I felt his thumb graze my cheekbone.

"Your cheek. It's been bruised."

I blinked rapidly, my focus distorted. Right. _That_ bruise.

"Oh. I-it's nothing."

"Looks like somebody hit you."

I shook my head. No need to say unnecessary things. No need to sound dramatic.

"No, it's really nothing."

"Is that so? You've seemed frazzled all day. Did something happen?"

"Well… no… Not really." I started fiddling with the hem of my skirt again, yanking at the lace nervously. I wasn't sure if I had the nerve to look him in the eye again - not like this. I couldn't continue. An astoundingly awkward moment passed.

"You're lying," he observed flatly.

"Oh, w-well… no… I mean, I don't… It wasn't that bad, really. I don't think it will be that much of a problem."

He snorted harshly and patted my shoulder. "Stop stuttering before you give yourself a hernia. It's a bit pathetic." Then, "There's a shower upstairs. Take your uniform off and go clean yourself up a bit."

"B-but… you…"

"Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself." He gave me a very skeptical expression and took a lock of my drenched hair between thumb and forefinger. "Besides, you look totally indecent. Better for a guy to be covered in milk than a girl."

My face might have caught fire, I felt so disturbed. "I know _that_," I said, annoyed by his massive mood swings, and knocking his hand away. "But you're really much worse than I am. It's gotten all over the place. I should stay here, and - "

"Why are you arguing with me? I'm your boss. Now, follow me upstairs."

I scowled. He was impossible. And _upstairs… _it sounded so conspicuous. But I made myself shut up, and went after him. He led me up a very wide set of stairs, around a corner, and into a hallway. The place was pretty barren. Finally, he opened the door to his bedroom and pulled me through (for a moment, I didn't know what to think), and dragging me past the bed and his desk, to the side of the wall. There was another wooden door which led to a spatial, blue bathroom.

Ryou bent to open a cabinet, taking out a heap of terry cloth. "You can take a shower in here. It's kind of big, so just do whatever. I'll be nearby."

The bathroom really was quite huge, I suddenly noticed, almost the size of his bedroom. It was tiled with blue and white, and had a high, arched ceiling with a window that opened up to the sky above. A mirror pane sat directly above the sink. I looked up, staring in wonder at the clouds and the sun that shone down into the chamber. In the corner was a large, western-style shower with a sliding glass door.

"Whooaa."

Ryou plunked a couple of simple, white towels into my arms, told me where the soap was, and how the faucet in the shower worked. I peered around curiously. I could feel the wonder settling in my face, and it must have been obvious, because Ryou turned to give me a look. "Honestly. It's just a bathroom."

"But it's so… cool."

He raised a solitary eyebrow, sighed, and scratched his neck. "Whatever." He turned to leave, but I reached out and grabbed the dairy-soaked sleeve of his arm. "Wait a moment!" I said. He paused, and I could swear I saw his face twitch subtly in irritation. I proceeded to speak, regardless.

"Why is that your bathroom is so much nicer than your bedroom? Don't you think you should dress up your room a little? It's so plain. It doesn't make any sense."

"Look, I'm not the one who designed the thing, okay? Just deal with it."

"But --"

He shrugged off my grip on his shirt and hurried out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. The sound echoed off the tiled walls in a lonely manner. I scowled, not moving from the spot. _Men_! Honestly! Why was he so crabby all of the sudden? He had shifted from being rather kind and charming to being completely short-tempered and impatient. …And all at the mention of the stupid bruise on my face. I gritted my teeth, still glaring venomously at the closed door, cursing the day when I decided to become a fight-picking idiot with traitorous friends.

I began grumbling to myself, turning on my heel and facing myself in the mirror. I looked pretty close to the way I had imagined: damp, sticky hair settling in clumps; a long, transparent streak of milk running down my front. I looked utterly moronic. I slapped my forehead bitterly; that damn Ryou, having to see me in this state.

I suddenly had the grandeur of throwing myself through the small window to my left. Why, oh why, did I always insist on being such a looser? I dropped the towels on the counter. Cursing, I wrestled the ridiculous cafe uniform off of my body, feeling revolted as I flung it across the room. It landed in a heap on the floor, crumpled in the corner.

It was all my fault. All of it. Everything that had even gone wrong up to this point had been my own damn doing, and there was no mending it. I wrenched off my shoes and socks, throwing them behind me and not noticing where they landed. Next came the bloomers, and then my underwear, which were also tossed away in varying locations. I couldn't have cared if my panties landed in the benjo, or something. Stark naked and shaking with anger, I kicked the cabinet door that Ryou had left open, and it came walloping shut. I heard the faint snap of something metal - a lock or handle, perhaps - but I paid it no mind. _He_ could deal with a couple broken cabinets.

Everything always screwed up. It was inevitable. From school to my normal life at home, everything was one the brink of eternal sleep, spiraling in a deathly beeline for hell. What was it that made life be so cruel to me? The mystery… Ignoring the mirror before me, not wanting to see myself again, I reached into the shower and violently yanked the levers that controlled the water, and immediately, a huge downpour of tap water came bursting from the nozzle.

-

After I'd showered, I stepped out and snagged a towel from the countertop and dried myself off. Being clean definitely felt loads healthier, and the water had calmed me a bit - but only a bit. I wasn't anywhere near ready to be pleasant with Ryou. Just I was planning to find him and give him a piece of my mind (this would be, of course, after I had dressed), I realized that I had forgotten to bring up my clean clothes.

"Gahhh! Shit!"

I practically jumped up in down in annoyance. No! I was _not _playing this game! I did _not _live in a perverted romantic comedy! I was going to escape this freakishly obtuse fate - no matter what it took. I scratched my head. A small tinge of panic trickled into my awareness. Stranded, bare-naked. I seemed to have been spending many unpleasant chunks of my time in bathrooms lately.

I glared at the milky, gray uniform sitting on the tiled floor with the strongest loathing I could conjure up. Well, there was no way I was going to put _that _bloody thing on again. It wouldn't make any sense to get dirty again. But then, there was nothing else to wear. I slapped my forehead in exasperation. So, what now? The confused, agitated and very naked girl in front of me - my reflection - was not pleased. She was looking back at me in a way that just made me even more angry. How the hell was I supposed to even get out of the bathroom? Perhaps, by chance, there would be someone who would hear me if I yelled for their assistance... But that would be foolish. Who else would come to the door than the person I was trying to avoid in my present state?

I stalled. There was only idea that came to mind, but it was risky. And stupid. Staring, I sighed; might as well start somewhere. I hastily put on my underwear, took hold of the largest, most opaque towel I could find, and wrapped it securely around myself.

All right then. Let's do this.

-

The shirt was too big. Well, of course it was! I started cursing again, kicked the metal bed, and then fell on to it, writhing in the dull pain I had suddenly given my bare and unsuspecting foot. I sat there for a minute, fuming. It was a dumb idea, but I couldn't think of much else to do - unless I wanted to go trekking around the café in a miniscule bath towel.

It was that or this.

Would a shirt be enough? Sure, it went down to my calves, but how far? I leaned over in front of the mirror to make sure.

Oh my.

A shirt wouldn't be enough. I needed pants. Or something. I opened another drawer - damn, no, those were socks - and another. My fuzzy black ears jumped forth snapped to attention right as my complexion was working on its usual shade of freak-o awkwardness, glowing crimson like a traffic light. Oh, _God_! …Wrong drawer.

I slammed it shut and rubbed my eyes, groaning. This felt so odd, so entirely wrong. I was being a total pest. How would I feel if somebody went around in my bedroom, accidentally running into rather personal items not intended for the eyes of others? I slapped my face around for a bitter moment.

"Stupid Sumono, stupid, stupid… Can't go downstairs until you find something _useful, _to cover body parts you actually _have_…"

I sank to my knees and started plunking my forehead on the wall. _Thud_. _Thud_. _Thud_. Get it out of my head. Catch my breath. Mind, out of the gutter! Out, out, out…

"Hey, um, before you put a dent in his wall…"

I looked up, mortified. A tall, statuesque figure clad in purple stood in the doorway. I yelped and scooted backwards on my rear, attempting to escape her line of sight, but Zakuro entered and closed the door behind her before I could succeed. She kneeled on the carpet before me.

"How - um, why are you in here?" I half-whispered in a shrill voice.

Zakuro held up my school uniform, neatly-folded, in one hand. "Shirogane told me to give this to you. He found it downstairs."

I groaned again. "You have got to be kidding me… Well, thanks, I guess." I took the uniform from her. I suppose I was expecting her to leave - but she didn't. She sat there, looking at me in that beautifully wise way of her's, as though she could read my thoughts. Gradually, a tight little smirk formed on her lips.

"You look sort of cute in his clothes, though."

-

Zakuro talked to me while I changed. Or rather, I talked to her. She didn't use her voice much, I'd learned. She was astonishingly gorgeous, growing more so by the second, but she was "of few words." Whenever she did speak, it was to make an aloof comment, or to grunt in response. Still, I didn't give up on getting to know her.

Finally, when we hit one topic of conversation, she started speaking in full sentences.

"Thanks, really," I said. "You saved my life. I was planning on sneaking downstairs in that thing. It would have been pretty bad. But I guess you already know that, huh?" I tugged my sweater over my head and ruffled my wet hair around.

"Don't thank me, thank him," said Zakuro softly.

"Oh. Yeah. I guess so. Uhm, Zakuro, speaking of that. When he told you to bring this to me, did he… I mean, was he… "

"He was laughing, yes."

I bellowed something obscene kicked his dresser.

Zakuro chuckled quietly. "I would be more careful, if I were you. He might take that out of your salary."

"I don't give a -! I mean, it doesn't bother me. He _deserves_ to have his crap roughed up."

"You think so?"

"Well, yeah! Being such a tightwad all the time. It's infuriating. He can't lighten up for more than five seconds. And when he is lightened up, it's like - it's like he's a totally different person."

Zakuro looked at me peculiarly. Something had just occurred to her - something had clicked. It looked like she was biting back a smile. "You sound like Ichigo."

"Oh. Do I?"

"Yes. A long time ago, at the very beginning of all this, I think Ichigo had a bit of a thing for Shirogane. Back then, she sounded a lot like you do now."

"Did she?" I squeaked.

"Yes. He's a confusing young man. Ichigo has Masaya now, so she's past trying to figure him out. As for you… you've got a while."

"Hey, I don - "

"It's okay." Zakuro gave me stunning grin, and I fell silent. "It's okay."

-

Despite all that, I still had the funny feeling, in the pit of my stomach, that Zakuro wasn't telling me all there was to know about Ryou Shirogane.

-

Once downstairs in the café dining room, with my gray uniform being battered in the washing machine, I stared out the windows into the darkness. Past curfew again. My dad wouldn't be happy. Maybe, if he was asleep, I could sneak in without waking him and slip into my bedroom. He would never know I hadn't been -

"Panther-chan."

I turned around. Ryou was slipping on his jacket. My heart leapt.

"I'm going to walk you home," he said.

"What?"

"You heard me. And don't tell me not to. The inbreeds could be anywhere in Tokyo at this point, and I don't want you walking all that way… alone."

"B-but, I do it all the time."

"Well, it's different this time."

My vision clouded over. My cardiovascular system had become perplexed, all of the sudden.

"Why… why is it different?"

He frowned thoughtfully at me, dribbles of color appearing on his cheeks. His mouth hung open for a second, but he shut it quickly and said, in a rush, "It just is. Don't ask me questions."

"But - My - "

"Don't worry. If your father becomes irritated… you know, because it's late, you'll be able to blame it on me. You won't have to worry."

"I… I wouldn't do that to you."

"All right, then I'll do it to myself."

I blinked, taken aback. No, I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let him become subject to my shameful "family." Not ever. I would never willingly cause anyone that sort of pain and confusion.

"Shirogane-san, honestly, I can't let you go and take the shit for me. My father is not the Happy Pappy most people think of when they think of a father, and he can get kind of weird around people he doesn't know. You'd die, or I'd die, or something, and I'd feel like a rat, really - "

Suddenly, a strong thumb was gently crushing against my lips. He towered over me as I quivered. Through my peripheral vision I saw Zakuro slip out the side door, white teeth flashing for a millisecond as the smiled to herself. Shivers ran up my spine.

"Hush," he said.

I melted into the chill that was clinging onto my heaving ribcage.

"Okay."

---

o.o ! Sumono, you're being seduced!  
This chapter pretty much qualifies as a sucky filler, but it's leading somewhere, I promise. I have a plan behind all this random, scattered plot matter.  
…I think.  
Anyway, thanks for reading, if you got this far without retching… XD;

-NekoBun


	14. Epiphany

**Panther Blues**

Ahhh! Thank you for the comments, everyone! You guys comment too quickly, I swear.

Or maybe I'm just slower than dirt, which is more likely. I was planning to be really quick and efficient with this, but, um, you see, this rather inconveniently-placed trip to London kind of knocked me off schedule…? …But now that I'm back in the states, I probably will try and use the benefit o having a computer around (even though this computer, technically, is not mine. That's part of the problem, you see. People don't like me sitting here for three hours writing fan fiction when they have to balance their checkbooks and things like that…)

Well! Seriously, everybody, thank you soo sooo soooo much. Just knowing this handful of users are consistently reading this story - even after horrendous amounts of time that I was inactive - well, it makes me feel all warm and buttery inside. You astound me! (GROUP HUG!) …Ahem. If I leave anyone out of this little thanking session feel free to bitchslap me. These go in the order in which they appear on the comment board thing. (Goes and does "I-would-like-to-thank-the-academy" speech)

**Jolie**: Ha ha, well, thank you for not going away. Means a bundle, really it does! I'm glad you were entertained! **Mew-Sahara**: Yeah… heh. I seem to be on drama overload. Maybe because I'm emotionally unsound? And I'll try my very hardest not to die. O.o **Dark Flamingo**: Yeah, alive, but just hardly. Do you think maybe I should try eating real food, rather than Pocky and chunks of peanut brittle? I heard that helps… And yes, she is sort of like her. It's the whole spaz thing, I'm fairly certain. **Kaze 160**: She's gonna break down and call up her personal SWAT team, that's what! XD… :D;;; (inserts head into bucket) …Thank you so much! Honored! **Skibbies: **Ah! Thank you thank you thank you! I shall do my best! **Wesleylover213: **Yes, Ryou is quite the stud these days. He'd better watch out, too, because I heard some girls planning to bishi-nap him. Thank you!

Ahhh! I love you all so much, I can't stand it! C'mere and gimme some love!  
(Frightened readers flee quietly from room)

"_God does not call the equipped. He equips the called."  
_- David Moore

**Chapter Fourteen!**

We walked side-by-side, slowly carving a dent in the waves of people, on our way to my home.

A freezing wind blasted through the Tokyo avenues at top-speed. I shook inside myself, wishing that I had something to wrap around my ears and neck. I should have purchased one of the plaid scarves from the school uniform catalogue, the ones I'd before so strongly detested. Only the rich girls wore the scarves.

Ryou sauntered nonchalantly beside me, silent as the grave. His pace was easy, but his face signaled alertness.

This part of Tokyo was like a neon fairyland when the sun went down. Colorful lights and advertisements bloomed overhead like a garden of brazen flowers, raining their petals down on us in scattered light. Streetlamps whirred and billboards flashed, alive. Thousands of shiny, dark-haired heads pushed past each other. A band of hooligans ran, screaming down the crosswalk in front of us and skidding around a taxi cab, which angrily slammed on its brakes.

It was an ordinary night in the Insomniac City. Things bustled, buildings set up like glowing glass matchboxes and steeples. It was not an innocent city. It was not just the clean, hospitable, and friendly culture tourists and foreigners saw upon their visits here. Beneath its fascinating exterior, Tokyo hid a devastating amount of suicides, depression, abuse. I could think of not another place with nearly so many unhappy young people, struggling to define themselves, to find their identities… but only to be drowned in claustrophobic hordes of other people. _Was_ there a city in this world that could call itself innocent?

Thirty five million, one hundred and ninety-seven thousand people. All teetering on the edge of destruction. All being rooted up by inbred hatchlings which grew beneath their unsuspecting feet. All sitting in the palm of the hand of fate. …But would they be able to decide their own fate? Would they help themselves and flee? Would they discover they were endangered quickly enough to do so?

Thirty five million, one hundred and ninety-seven thousand people all depending on eight youths. Seven of them experienced and confident in their abilities, ready to help and serve their home. One of them unsteady, stupid, doubtful, hesitant, moody. Like a lost child, clinging to any stranger who would offer some - any - form of comfort.

Ryou checked his watch. He whistled. "Time passes too quickly. What do you say we pick up the pace a little? The sooner home, the better."

I wordlessly obeyed, lost staring into the blazing nightlife. We were engulfed into the blur. Music from advertisements and shops and the sounds of traffic swept us away into the masses, herded like cattle down the sidewalks. Like animals.

Yes, it was indeed an ordinary night. Granted, nothing is planned in a city, not the small turning of events. And yet, the spontaneity was all part of the divine rush of synonymous life here. Everything was always the same. Everything followed the same routine. Tonight was nothing - it could be nothing more than a simple pawn in the full plan of events. And for years of my life I had seen it that way. It was something of a common thought among all residents of this monstrosity. Life had its breaks of new curiosity, of course. Every now and then something would change about our outlook on Tokyo. Absolutely - Tokyo was always shifting and improving and overgrowing and sprawling, never to die, a legend within its own. But no matter how it made transitions, our perspective of the city didn't grow much. I looked out upon the shredding people, multiplying like rabbits in a cage, rampant and chaotic. I had once felt drowned into the never-ending numbers, once felt like I was insignificant to the life that would continue to thrive in this place. I didn't matter. I was not instrumental.

I went to school every day and I sat in the back corner and slept through the majority of classes. I griped at anybody who bothered me. I hurt anybody who pissed me off. My father ignored me and I pushed him away. I curled myself up like a porcupine and hid inside myself, safe, where only _I _could know myself. On the outside, I was prickly. Get too close, and I might even give you a little jab.

My tough exterior was my safe harbor and shelter. Nobody was supposed to get inside. Nobody was supposed to fool around with the stuff hiding within - no, they weren't allowed. _Don't tear it apart. Don't break me down, so that you can see right through my shell. _My presence had not been needed.

It was like walking with blinders on.

But then I had taken a fated trip to a cute little café, at a far and unfamiliar part of town, and the blinders came off.

My pace quickened.

Something was out of place. Something. The dullness was gone, replaced with needle-points of shocking sensation. It was an utter stimulation. The air was too painfully sharp and cold. I could hear too many noises, the ones which normally faded into the background. The lights were too fierce. The ads were too persuasive. The feeling of a stranger's sleeve brushing mine, as we carefully maneuvered the jumble, was too pronounced.

My porcupine shell was cracking. I looked down at my bare, shaking hands.

I had taken a fated trip to a new café. That was how it had happened. So simple, so unsuspecting, how such a little transition - one which had seemed like it would be lost in the billions of small transitions of Tokyo - had made such an enormous difference. A small spark had ignited an enormous flame. Here I was, only half-human and glaring at my own two hands, knowing that I had been given something _new_. It really was possible after all.

I could _change_ things. I could make a difference. I could be needed. I had been offered something that thousands of high school girls were praying for to befall them, praying they too would become known to more than just the ones close-by, to others who actually needed them to be there. To other people who would want their presence, to others who would think of them when they needed help. For a total stranger to rely on them and await them. To be recognized as another honest, living, capable human being. Yes, I was capable. Yes, we were _all _capable! I stopped dead in a footstep and a business man crashed into me. I ignored him as he grumbled and pushed past me. I eyes my hands towards the endless Tokyo skyline. I was living the dream of millions! I wanted to scream, with every fiber of my being.

_I'm doing it for you! I'll do it all for you! For every person in this city! I understand you!_

They say that when an epiphany occurs to a human being, or, in this particular scenario, half-human being, time stops. That's what they always write in books - _suddenly, time stopped_. I didn't like that when they wrote that, mostly just because it's a horribly over-used phrase and it begins to lose its meaning after a while. I didn't really understand the purpose of it, either - epiphanies could occur without the world suddenly crashing to a halt, couldn't they?

The thing is, that no, they can't.

Musical bliss was thumping through my skull, vigorously, like an irritated woodpecker nabbing down the thought until it finally made itself understood. When I would reemerge, I would have a migraine.

_I want to help you, so that you can live, really live. _

My head pounded. I felt myself grinning with unadulterated joy, late-night energy streaming to my fingertips. Somebody roughly jostled me as they ran past, and I snapped out of it violently, senses raging.

Oh, God. God - where was Ryou?

My head turned in all directions, and nothing tall nor blond met my line of sight. I stood in the same spot, spinning around restlessly. Somebody's voice was calling madly under the roar of the city. It was not his voice, nor even mine, but it sounded desperate. I couldn't tell where the voice was coming from.

Ryou's timing was never satisfactory, but this was more than infuriating. Somebody was screaming bloody murder into the night, and he chose this moment to disappear and be his elusive self. Where did he run off to? Or had _I _run away from _him_? I realized I'd been walking more quickly than I'd intended, lost in contemplation, just pushing blindly forward. I had been saturating in my own senses, but not aware enough to notice where I was walking?

I slapped my forehead in aggravation. It was so much like me, my blatant idiocy, to lose my escort. He was probably stuck in some alleyway, pulling his pretty bleached hair out and cursing my name - somebody was screaming - danger was throbbing through the atmosphere -

A strong arm took hold of my shoulder and sharply dragged me around.

"Shiro…"

It wasn't him. It was a panicked woman holding a wailing toddler in one arm and holding the hand of a slightly older child with the other. She glared at me violently. More people were beginning to cry out.

"Miss, move out of my way! You've got to get out of here!"

"What?"

I took a look over her shoulder.

A swarm of black marks were ripping through the masses, crashing like a dark cloud of oversized gnats through street vendors and infesting open-door boutiques. They zipped and flung through the air as though they were hummingbirds - hell-sent hummingbirds.

Were these… inbreeds? And so soon? A wave of consciousness melted over me. Had they hatched already? Right under our noses, before we even had a chance to locate them? Were these the only ones, or were there more? Hundreds of questions popped into my shocked mind. I stared, mouth hanging open.

The thundercloud of the marks took a five-second long roost on a row of fruit vendors, and within the same duration of time, ripped the entire thing to shreds. Once they took to their frenzied flight again, all that was left of the oranges and bananas were crumpled-looking bits of black rot. The wood that was used to hold the vendor's sign up disintegrated and exploded in a soft puff of dust on the concrete.

Riots of fear were building up, men and women fleeing like slight woodland creatures before a ravenous wolf. Cries of terror were growing to be more panicked and chaotic. The masses were all reversing their direction and running, pushing back the other way, in my direction. As did the swarm, following the crowds. I gasped as a black animal shot an inch over my head. The noises of these strange creatures - the sound of millions of little wings flapping insanely, paired with small screeches and squeaks that wounded the ear. What the hell _were_ those things?

Another shot towards me. I flung my arm to the side, panther reflexes in full development, and grabbed hold of the little thing. It squirmed and shook, squealing angrily. My fist tightened around it as I held it close to my face to get a better look. It was perturbing. Disgusting. A bat - no, a bird. What… A bat's wings, a small bird's body. And the head of a locust, antennae prominent and miniscule jaws clicking furiously. Revolted, I threw it out of my hand, and the tiny inbreed went tumbling on into the air.

Ryou was gone. The cloud was growing closer. I bit my lip, small bouts of terror seeping in. "Oh, crap."

I _knew_ what to do. How could I not know? It was so simply pictured in my mind. I was still rooted to the same space of sidewalk, numerous people trying to push past me. I could not flee. That was for certain. But would it be so simple to physically carry out? I thought about the last time. I had done it easily last time, had I not? Although it had only been a test run, I had not been aware, and carried it out without ailments to myself. My hands balled into fists. I stuck my chin up.

I didn't need Ryou to be here for me to do this. I just had to remember - how could I make it work? How could I make that energy flow again? I couldn't just… _make_ it happen, could I? If I just _thought_ about transforming, would it happen? What had done it the time before? The heat of the moment just been so sudden… things had just clicked… that would never happen to easily again, would it?

"Crap, crap, crap," I muttered, watching the flock of inbreeds burst on. Every few moments they would roost for a period of seconds, and once they removed themselves from their perch, it would crumble into rotted ashes. It would keep going until somebody put a stop to it. But how, in the name of Jesus -

The subtle but ominous voice in the back of my mind spoke up at long last.

_Don't struggle. Don't think. Just do. You already know what has to happen, so _make_ it happen. _

Then turned around and bolted into the swarm.

They tore at me like vultures picking apart food. Like mosquitoes gathering on exposed flesh. Their little locust jaws shredded the sleeve of my sweater with ease, taking them no less than a few seconds to take hearty chunks out of my school uniform. The sense of filth lingered wherever they touched, making me gag. I swatted at them angrily and knocked several to the ground, but there were too many to take them on one by one. They were tough little buggers. I would need a broader method of destruction.

"You're going DIE!" I screamed, thrashing at them, half-animal. I pounced into the air.

In mid-jump I was claimed by a power so strong it was like having my entire body wrapped in the fist of God. Bubbles and surges of warm claimed my every limb. I twisted in the air, feeling all parts of myself shift and change. The ears, the tail, popping forth on top and on bottom. Around my torso, the gray bands of fabric were being wound, slowly forming into the corset, out from which my skirt magically blossomed. Gloves wrapped about my forearms, and boots fastened themselves tightly onto my lower legs. I twirled, eggrolling through the atmosphere, until the changes were complete, and the air returned to normal.

The power was overwhelming. I floated, reborn. The citizens stared up at me, things quieting, but only for a moment. I could tell - they were all waiting for me to do something. The inbreeds had scattered apart from each other. I opened my mouth, and involuntarily, a pre-programmed line of speech spewed out.

"There will be consequences for your actions!"

I raised my right arm, feeling white-hot pulsations of wrath burst into my fingertips. This power was stronger than it had been before - I was trembling within.

The inbreeds were rejoining, and all together, the swarm of them looked much larger, much more menacing. The noises of the flapping bat wings and snapping of their locust jaws. They were gathering on the side of an office building, clinging there somehow. Hoards of them - disgusting. My stomach nearly turned at the sight - the feeling of them on my skin had been…

No. This was time to get the job done. I set my chin. Ready or not, Ryou or not, it had to be done.

"Plum Fan Paradise!" I bellowed, the sound of my surprisingly authoritative voice bouncing off the buildings. Instantly, the thin weapon materialized from blinding white light straight into my hand, and it whipped open with a simple flick.

Fan opened, I took the it by the string, which was attached to the handle. I began to rotate it at my side, swinging freely in a counterclockwise movement like a deadly razorblade. A furious blaze of energy and gray vapors released from its orbit, creating a blinding light. I relinquished it with a final, tossing swoop, and it took into the air. The fan spun so quickly that it acted as a boomerang. It whirred away, slicing through the swarm. The fan knocked a handful of the inbreeds down to the pavement, cutting a few chips away from the block - the attack had done little to abate the mass. The fan came careening back and I caught it by its handle.

(NekoBun: Quick author's note, sorry for breaking the flow of action here, hardy har har. Anyway. The use of the "karate fan" here is not quite the same as the good-old _tessenjutsu_. If you've ever seen tessenjutsu in action - whether in a class or in a martial arts film - you'll know it's much more powerful and sophisticated than it seems. It's also rare - usually an auxiliary weapon learned way after ken, bo, jo, and chained weapons. Normally woman warriors - usually _kunoichi_, or "female ninja" - would use traditional bamboo fans, called _sensu_, in combat. But Sumono is no girly girl, being a superhero. She uses the authentic iron tessen that a man would use. …Sadly, you won't find many dojo in the west teaching authentic tessenjutsu techniques... Unless you're lucky. And rich. [_Cough_ The things I'll be writing in here will not correspond to traditional tessen form. It's mostly stuff I've made up... So for those of you who are big on the martial arts, don't get mad at me! XD I'll shut up now - don't want to sit here giving you weapon lessons.)

The inbreeds quickly became irritated and shrieked eardrum-piercing sirens quaking through the air and they rebounded, gathering into a denser group, a formidable wall, daring me to penetrate. They advanced, flung themselves at me, and before I could realize that I was even thinking, I dropped to the pavement a kneeled. I swung the fan by its tassels and created a shield with its energy. It glowed and quivered, a translucent bubble. Thousands of animal bullets struck the shield and fell, either dead or stunned I would not tell. It was like watching rain thundering down from behind a car window. The inbreeds which had struck lay surrounding me as a black sea.

The force of the downpour weakened me. My arms ached and I would not keep the bubble up much longer. I relinquished and dodged, missing the rains of inbreeds by inches, and kicked off into the air. The still, nonmoving inbreeds on the street looked, from above, like a ghastly dark quilt. People running on the ground avoided them in disgust. And the swarm remained, suspended, somehow looking no slighter than it had before.

I flicked the fan again to strike off a bout which had come flying at me. Then another, and another. The forces of the swarm did not retreat in size nor tact, despite the damage I had caused. They relentlessly blasted at me like clustered-together canon balls of fury. I barely escaped one particular blob that sent itself barreling directly at my head. Another fired off unexpectedly at my feet, and struck forcefully, sending me careening ungracefully into the concrete of an office building. The air escaped from my lungs and I plunged onto the ground, gagging and gasping to reclaim my breath and bits of cinderblock crumbled around me.

In this one moment of my weakness they attacked, the entire swarm. Countless little angry welts suddenly appeared on my skin before I could even consider evasive action; they pecked at me and tore the flesh off my arms, legs, and chest. I scrambled away, blinded by the density of their siege and the sharp and sudden pains infesting my extremities. I thrashed until I could regain my train of thought. I pushed off the ground and bellowed, my voice harshly coarse,

"PLUM FAN PARADISE!"

A sick ripping noise erupted out of the end of my fan and a colossal band of white lightning crashed outwards. Hundreds of thousands of bat-like creatures were suddenly obliterated in the brightness, disappeared and replaced by a frightened group of sparrows which scattered and flew away in separate directions.

I had no time to celebrate. The remaining clouds of inbreeds reacted so quickly it knocked all the strength from my body. Before my mind worked out the resolve to sort out what was happening, I was pinned back onto the ground being wrapped in a crushing, suffocating, bone-breaking barrage of animal-stones breaking me, pressing me inward on all sides, wrapped in a rocky grip of death. There was no air. I dare not open my mouth or surely they would hail down inside my throat. My stomach flipped over. I was paralyzed. My lungs were caving in, my ribs were being pushed into my heart. There was no room -- oh, God, where was the air? My body weakened, my senses dulled, vision clouded --

"Su… ono…!"

There were voices, shuddery pounds of multihued power and light. The rock-hard grasp on my frame lessened. The numbers of black canons dissolved. My mouth opened and oxygen lurched stiffly into my lungs. Someone took hold of my arms and pulled me up. A pair of very concerned green eyes met mine. I almost started to cry.

"L-Lettuce… everyone…"

Lettuce gave me a genuine, comforting smile and squeezed my hand. I tried to grasp at my bearings and find a way to make my vocal chords function.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I gasped. "I'm all right -- "

Pudding came skidding to halt next to us and screamed, "Sumono! What are these things?"

"I - I think they're the mutants Ryou told us about. They breed and multiply as they roost - they don't ever stop - be careful --"

"Act quickly!" Mint bellowed from afar as she shot a series of arrows into another cloud of deathly creatures. Lettuce screamed and shoved me away to protect me. I scrambled to my feet and dodged around a blast of furious inbreeds.

I saw the whole gang there. Pudding cart wheeled wildly through the air and helped Mint eradicate the mass. Not far behind were my other comrades in arms, colorful blips soaring over the nighttime horizon. Zakuro and Ichigo.

"Everyone!" I cried, and gestured for our assemble.

Together we bound as a rainbow-like wall. Ichigo summoned her heart-shaped weapon and raised it high. She grinned at me, almost insane with pleasure.

"Sumono, don't worry! We'll beat them together, or not at all!"

I had to try very hard not to throw my arms around her in gratitude and spoil the triumphant moment. Pudding wrapped herself around my arm and gave me one of her hyper-girl smiles. Pride washed through me. I was one of _them_ after all.

"Everyone!" Ichigo shouted. "We'll do it all together, at once! We've got to use a broad attack, or they'll keep coming! On three!"

She spun the heart in her hands elaborately and steadied herself. A shield surrounded us.

"One…"

Everyone drew their weapons, the energy building up gradually as a single sonic powerhouse, all colors and attacks combined into one --

"Two…"

Vibrations from the core of my heartstrings warmed my entire physique. I swung the fan by the tassels, sheaths of light popping and weaving --

"THREE!"

The shield blipped away for one pocket of time to make our move. It had to be perfect punctuality - just one wrong millisecond it would unhinge. We moved as one, a single flick of the hand, and then six gusts of pure adrenaline bombed the streets. Winds whipped at us and rolls of thunder cleared out slowly.

Then, as hundreds of sparrows broke away in terrified frenzy, I suddenly realized; I created a barricade as quickly as I knew I could, and I screamed, my voice violently out of control,

"THEY"RE GOING TO COUNTER! REBOUND AND DO IT AGAIN!"

The Mews looked at me with wild, doubtful eyes, not knowing what I meant.

"_JUST DO IT AGAIN_!"

We regrouped and shielded ourselves just as the remaining, inflamed inbreeds launched their formidable, suffocating barrage. It took all the strength in my muscles to hold a barrier to the forced of their enraged frenzy to kill. I had to raise my voice to an incredible level to make myself heard over the hailing thunder.

"_KEEP HOLDING UP YOUR SHIELDS_ _UNTIL I TELL YOU WHEN_!"

They did as I had said, and just as our barrier had grown its strongest, I let mine fade, and I slipped out from behind it and tumbled out into the madness.

"_Sumono_! _What are you _--"

"Keep holding it!"

The mutants became distracted by my sudden presence outside of the barrier, and they released their bombing on the rest of the Mews, to attack me. The entire swarm doubled back and turned on me, leaving the Mews unattended. They flooded to me like hellfire.

"NOW!" I roared, and was I engulfed.

It all happened in slow motion to me and seemed to last for hours, rather than the actual few seconds. For a short while I felt like I was being burned alive - bite after bite of tiny, furious jaws ripping me apart. Then, as the Mew's barrier broke and they exploded into their element of absolute power, I felt as though I were being cleansed, like cold water on a rash, glorious white light bathing the sparrows and I.

I thudded loudly to the ground and the small birds gently fluttered around me while I drifted away.

-

_Congratulations_, the voice told me in a rarely appraising voice. _You've made it back alive_.

_Oh_, I thought hopefully. _That's good, I guess_. _Are you proud of me_?

_Sure_, the voice said, fairly enough. Then it added with distaste, _But I've also been meaning to tell you. I think your dress is too low-cut_.

I frowned thoughtfully.

_You can take that up with the guy who made it_, I said tiredly, and yawned.

-

Approximately eighteen seconds later I woke up and gazed into the faces of strangers. Tokyo citizens peered, concerned, into my face with wide eyes. They were hunched around me cautiously like they were afraid I would snap awake and scare them all. One little boy was crouched at my side, holding a stuffed wildcat, tears rolling down his cheeks. I blinked and my vision cleared slowly. I smiled at the frightened boy, even though my face hurt. He returned a brilliantly halfhearted sniffle and beam. My neck began to ache so I turned away after a moment.

"Out of the way, _out of the way_!"

A particularly peeved male voice sang out, like a heavenly omen to my ears, even if it also sounded like he'd been crapping kittens for the last hour or so.

The Aryan pushed through the wall of curious people and kneeled, glaring anxiously into my face. His hair flopped into his pretty aquamarine eyes. He grabbed my shoulders and shook me around, desperation in his herald angel's voice.

"Sumono-chan? Sumono, talk to me, please! Say something, anything!"

"Go walk off a cliff, you fascist pig," I giggled in a hysterically broken voice.

His face instantly relaxed and his arms wrapped around me. My head spun as I suffocated quietly into his jacket. He smelled unusually good for fascist pig, like soap and coffee. I thought maybe I could die right then and it would be perfectly okay with me, because I would grab him by his shirt collar and drag him into hell right along with me.

He released me and I sat up slowly, painstakingly. I was back in my normal clothing like a human being should be. The welts and wounds had disappeared from my body, like a miracle; I realized suddenly that the magic used to restore Kirema Anima to their original form without hurting them had made the same effect on me; I looked like myself, despite the pain that was radiating through me from the hard landing I'd taken onto the concrete.

I looked around; the crowds were beginning to thin down as they all walked home and away from the chaos that had once existed. A few sparrows were hopping furtively around trashcans. The Mews were dressed in street clothes, standing in an alley, out of sight, in a circle around Keiichiro, who had also strangely arrived in the last eighteen seconds of stillness.

I let my eyes travel the Tokyo skyline above my head, the stars and the blazing lights, then I flushed scarlet as they landed accidentally on Ryou's face. I tore my gaze away quickly, even though I knew he'd caught me looking at him. Every time our eyes met, it always felt like my face was going to combust into agitated hormonal flames.

"Where were you?" I whispered.

"You ran off suddenly and I couldn't find you. Then I saw the inbreeds, and called the rest of the girls."

He squinted at me in that way that makes you feel like you're a bug under a microscope.

"You look like you have a fever," he said, suddenly using his famously condescending and Holier-Than-Thou voice.

"No," I croaked. "It's not that. I'll be just fine if I, uh, get some fresh air."

He glared at me, disbelieving.

"You're already outside, numbskull."

"Oh," I squeaked. "Right. I'll just, um, stretch my legs."

I got to my feet and teetered unsurely before making my way to the rest of the Mews. I snuck up behind Ichigo and threw my arms around her. She turned around and nearly cried out. Before I knew it, we were in an enormous group hug filled with wrathful embraces that would crack any normal person's spine. Pudding nearly tackled me from behind, and Zakuro have me one of her awkward pats on the head.

"You saved my life, all of you," I told them. "I don't know what to say. It feels like a miracle."

"Anytime, anywhere," Mint said smugly and inspected her nail beds absent-mindedly. She seemed to think that it was no big deal - and to her, I guess it wasn't. She'd surely saved countless lives already.

Lettuce's eyes swam with tears of emotion; Ichigo put an arm around her shoulder and looked at me in a very noble way. I suddenly felt an overwhelming and newfound respect for Ichigo. I wanted to tell her, but I couldn't find the right words to make it sound genuine. I was never good at communicating.

"Um, I know this sounds corny and all," I said slowly, "But I'm… I'm completely indebted to every one of you."

"Nonsense," Ichigo said. "That's not true. You did just fine by sacrificing yourself into a swarm of angry mutant insect-birds. Don't feel bad."

"We are a team," Zakuro said. "There are no debts."

I have to admit I was astounded by them all.

Ichigo's unfailing dedication and courage for her people.

Mint's slightly pretentious but extremely valid will for bravery.

Lettuce's gentle and loving standards of being fair and just.

Pudding's boundless energy and lack of resent towards life.

Zakuro's wisdom, unbeatable strength, and encouragement.

They all completed each other. Fit together like puzzle pieces. They worked together as a perfect team. I knew then that they would not give up this fight. Not ever. They would stick it out to the very end.

I wanted to be a part of their ways. I _had_ to be.

I had always known that I could not stay a whining, angry, precocious high school student forever. I knew that someday I would grow up and go on with other things. That my life would go on despite what seemed like gigantic obstacles in my one-and-a-half-decade-long lifespan. I wasn't wise, I wasn't some amazing and brave colorful individual with lots of doting friends and cool clothing, and I didn't have my own answers for my problems. I was, technically, a walking time bomb.

I was a mess. But, when I looked at the five of them, I knew that none of it was going to make a damned difference in what I wanted now. I was one of them, and I had to do what they did, because was simply how it was - it was how it _had_ to be. If I resisted, nothing good would ever come of me. I had to do my duty now. If I didn't, what else would I do with myself? This was how it was meant to be.

I reached out and took a hold of Ichigo's shoulders and gave her a grateful kiss on the cheek, and then I threw my arms around Lettuce, and then Mint, and then to Zakuro, who, surprisingly, hugged me back; then I knelt and kissed little Pudding on the cheek.

"My heroes. You were incredible. I'll repay you somehow."

They looked at me with glassy eyes. Then Keiichiro tapped my back. I turned around.

"Shirogane tells me you should be getting home, Milady. Something about your father?"

"Oh, good Lord! I completely forgot!"

"He also told me to tell you this." Keiichiro cleared his throat and recited, in an impeccable Ryou impersonation, "'I'm walking you all the way home, no matter what you try to pull over this time.'"

I tried and failed to suppress my mirth regarding this.

"Oh, is that so? Pray tell, where is he now that he's so dead-set on getting me home and out of his sight?"

An agitated, impatient voice from behind me said, "I'm right _here_. Don't get your panties in a wad. I had to check up on a few details while you six were having your girly hugging session. But I'm back now."

I flushed over.

"Oh."

"Yeah, _oh_. I'll see you tomorrow, everyone. Wonderful job out there tonight. You have succeeded in impressing the famously blasé Ryou Shirogane."

We giggled accordingly.

"Kobayashi, come on."

He impatiently made a gesture with his hand, indicating for me to follow, and began to walk out of the alleyway. Mint elbowed me in the side to make me go, and then she exchanged a glance with a very red-in-the-face Ichigo. I waved and smiled at everyone nervously and hopped off to catch up with him. They watched me with very wide, amused, and knowing eyes. I didn't really get what that was all about, but once Ryou and I rounded a corner, I heard sudden bouts of hysterical, uncontrollable laughter.

-

It was as though we had picked up where we'd left off, only not as alert and quiet. After a while of drifting off into my own world, I gradually realized he was using the scenic route to get me home; we were in one of the various small walking parks of Tokyo, like the one I'd slept in days before. It was very nearly deserted of people. We made small talk and I nervously fiddled much too much with a keychain on my bag. I had nearly torn it off with my desperately shaking hands when Ryou said,

"I have to ask. Why did you call me a fascist pig?"

"What?"

"You know what I mean."

"Oh. Um. It's stupid."

"I don't care."

"Oh. Well. Er."

I looped a strand of my hair around my fingers and began tugging until tears sprang into my eyes from the pain. I really didn't want to tell him this.

"I'll tell you if…"

"If?"

"…If you t-tell me why… y-you only call me by my first name… when there's n-nobody else from the café around."

It was a difficult question to get out. I stared at my keychain and began to tug at my hair again. Pain stung in my scalp. He didn't make it any easier. It was too quiet. I looked over at him, but it was hard to see in the particular lighting we were in at that moment. He had turned his face away. I regretted having even let the words come out of my mouth. Ryou was the "ask-me-no-questions-and-I'll-tell-no-lies" kind of person; anyone could have said the same. I was almost biting my lip off as I attempted to gage his reaction; it was nearly impossible. There was no way to see his face.

Then we walked under a street lamp, bathed in the artificial light, and I could see everything. I tried my hardest to keep from gasping. The Aryan had turned the ripest shade of red I'd seen ever dare to cross over his stony complexion. I almost smiled, but caught myself just in time for him to steal a glance at me and then quickly look away, obviously trying to seem apathetic, but knowing I'd seen him look. Suddenly I did not feel regretful at all.

It must have been awkward to him, but to me, it was fascinating. The color flooding his face was overwhelming, even to me. He had allowed for me to see raw emotion in him for the first time - and it was embarrassment, no less. My lungs caved in as I forgot how to breathe. He was too impossibly… too _deliciously_ human now that his guard had dropped. It was cruel, but I liked seeing his embarrassment, not for the embarrassment itself, but for the emotion itself. It was so real and human, I couldn't help but like it. _Really_ like it… And it was such an oddly endearing thing that it triggered something very strange in me.

I grabbed his rough hand in mine, and swung it around playfully. He looked shocked but remained quiet and did not try to shrug off my grip.

"Never mind what I asked," I told him brightly. "It's not important."

"If you say so."

He gave me a painful smile and squeezed my hand. "But you haven't answered _my_ question."

"Oh. I guess not. Um. Promise you won't think I'm weird."

"Not think you're weird? It's too late for that, I'm afraid."

Suddenly he stopped walking and pulled me to a halt beside him. He looked at me with those two brilliant blue stones. His smile widened to a grin, almost in a burst of insanity. "Just tell me why, and if you do, I'll try to behave more nicely, how's that?"

"That's… b-better…"

"Then tell me why I'm a fascist pig."

"You… you look like you're a German soldier. I mean, you know, an Aryan. Blond hair and blue eyes, and you're… really tall a-and …"

I stammered and stopped speaking. Ryou looked at me incredulously, but I knew if I had to look into his eyes it would mean the death of me. He was trying desperately not to let his face melt into hilarity. I know this, because the corner of his mouth was twitching pretty badly.

"I-Is that right?"

I couldn't contain my exasperation.

"Well, you can't tell me it isn't true!"

Then he threw back his head and laughed. It was a gorgeous sound. This Ryou person… he was all right when he wasn't boxing up his personality and hiding from the world. The sight of his face in a state of relaxation was quite something, as well, his broad smile nearly contagious. I turned my gaze at my feet so as not to let myself find his smile on my own face. He dropped my hand. A few minutes passed and we walked quietly. Then I found that I was nearly dying of curiosity. I wondered what he was thinking, in all this silence. So then I made myself take a quick peek at him.

His face was as a stressed sigh that he didn't let out.

"What is it?"

"Oh, nothing. You just concern me. You're crazy… You do crazy things."

"Huh? Like what?"

"What kind of a…? As though you don't know? Like running straight into an angry thundercloud of mutant and inbreeded Kirema Anima."

"But… I'm supposed to do that. Aren't I?"

"Yes. I mean _no_! No, not when you're still in human form, you're not. You just went straight on and risked being picked apart, eaten alive, or worse. You should at least transform first!"

"I… I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?"

"I guess I just didn't know what else to do."

"I'm sure that cannot be true. I think it would be apparent at that point."

"No, really! I don't even know how to get myself into - into _panther_ form unless I'm in thick of everything. I have to be really into what's going on. I can't just _stand _there -- I can't just --"

I choked over my own tongue, which was suddenly thick and heavy, clumsily knocking around in my mouth. Why? Why couldn't I simply transform like I was supposed to? There was something wrong with me. I knew it. Ryou turned a concerned expression on me and he shook my shoulder a little, the way he had before, as though he were making sure I was still alive and well. Then, suddenly, his face blurred over. I heard him groan in immediate acknowledgement to something. His voice was guilty:

"Oh _no_. Please, _please_ don't cry. I hate it when girls cry. It's just too pathet -- I mean, I just don't like it. Come on, now… you're a wreck."

"I'm - I'm n-not crying."

He sounded positively dreadful, resentful, as though we was at fault. "Oh, Jeez, yes you _are_. God, please don't cry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

"YOU didn't do anything!" I cried, trying to sound tough, and failing. My voice broke and wavered an octave too high to be convincing.

"Well, then cut it out! Please… I'll do anything. You're making me feel terrible."

"I'm s-so s-sorry! I just don't get why it's s-so hard for me to transform. I try, and I try, and then only times I can get it to really work is when I'm either really scared, or really angry, or just in a total state of panic. It's not normal! I'll never be able to do anything if I keep messing up like that."

The half-rabid, incredulous and utterly exasperated look Ryou shot at me would have been funny, I suppose, if I were not feeling so low. He raised his arms into the air, cursing the heavens.

"Listen! You're not messing up anything, except maybe your head! Good grief, you're such a screwball! There _is_ no normal way to transform into a Mew, don't you understand? There is nothing _normal_ about the entire thing!"

"But --"

"You can't compare yourself to the other girls. You can only do the best you can do. Please, don't go and push yourself into something impossible. Your best is your best. And it's not half bad, either. You did a… a really good job out there. For your first actual time. You did things no rookie would think of. And it must have taken a lot of guts to go outside the barrier and expose yourself like that."

I sniffled and wiped an eye on my sleeve.

"No. Not really. Watching these things - hearing stories about them and everything. It makes it seem much more gallant than it actually is. You just do what you have to do."

"Well…"

He pulled me over again. We were in the dark, away from the reveling beams of a streetlamp, beneath the foliage of a tree. A cold wild rustled the leaves and blew through me like I wasn't even solid. It was getting more and more chilly as time wore on. I shivered. I couldn't dare to raise my hoarse powers of speech much above a whisper.

"Well?"

Every part of me was numb and unresponsive, whether from cold, or something else… The most obvious option to gain some excess body heat was only a foot away. To curb the temptation, I took retreating steps, until I backed up accidentally onto the trunk. He did not help me overcome the enticement, for he merely followed my steps up onto the trunk. Pinned. He spoke softly.

"I don't care whether you were being brave or not. I still think you were fantastic."

Any normal girl would have come up with something witty and memorable to say in reply, but his voice made clean sweep of all useful conversational vocabulary in my mind. My lips, almost by instinct, parted. My tongue ran absent-mindedly on the edges, and left them moist. My heart fluttered against my ribcage like a bird that wanted to fly up and out of my throat. Our breath came out like white puffs of steam and clashed together.

"Your ears."

"What…?"

"Panther ears."

He let out his famous lop-sided smirk. His hands tangled in my hair, and then covered my panther ears gently. I shuddered. Inches, just inches, away. Not even.

"We wouldn't want anyone seeing those."

"But there's nobody here."

"The trees have eyes."

"Screw the trees. They won't tell anybody."

"The trees have mouths, too."

"Oh."

And you sound desperate."

"Desperate…"

"Yeah… And it's kind of…"

He didn't finish. I didn't want him to finish. I didn't let him. It would have been hard for him to finish, with my mouth full on his.

He did not resist, but he tensed against me in surprise. I crushed myself to his chest. His lips were tender. It was as though we'd stepped outside, and straight into a warm summer rain.

-

My father was in bed. I still had chores to do, which would not wait until the morning; all of clothing was dirty and there was no food for tomorrow left in the cupboards. I cleaned the kitchen and washed out some glasses. I put on a scarf and hat, wrapped my flimsy jacket more tightly around me. Then I dumped the laundry into a basket and hauled in out onto the awning where the fire escape was. I closed the sliding door behind me, where the freezing two-in-the-morning air blasted onto my face like a siren. I didn't tremble. I never felt cold when I was alone. It was a strange thing.

With stiff fingers I emptied the clothing into the washing machine and poured in the proper quantity of detergent. I closed the lid, twisted the knob, and hit the "start" button. The machine slowly ripped into life and chugged. It was a comforting noise that reminded me of early childhood, although I couldn't remember a specific memory of a time I'd heard it.

Then I went back into the house, searching the drawers in the chest cabinet by the TV set. Eventually I found a small change purse and rummaged through it; I found what I needed for groceries, and then closed up the cabinet and tried to make it look at though it had not been disturbed. I crept back onto the awning with the apartment key, knowing that if I went through the interior front door I would chance waking my father, who had a hard going back to sleep once he had awoken. I patted the washing machine on my way down the freezing metal stairs. The laundry would be done washing when I got back.

Impatient of stairs, I decided to jump the rest of the way down, and swung my body up and over the railing. The landing didn't hurt, but I skidded ungracefully into a precarious trashcan down below which spilled onto the concrete. I might have taken the time to fix the mess, but I wasn't all that comfortable with sticking my hands into garbage I couldn't really see.

The walk to the supermarket was fast. At least, I made it so. In the chill, my senses were hyperaware and stimulated. My feet flew, and startled-looking homeless people sitting in the streets glared after me irritably. I slammed through the front doors, breathing hard. When the late-night cashiers saw me, I composed myself at the last minute and strode in with my head held high, hopefully appearing to be normal enough.

I took a basket from the right side of the entrance and dug the list I'd made out of my jacket pocket.

There was something peaceful about a midnight run to a produce center, and I wasn't really sure what it was, but it made me feel warm and fuzzy inside to see the random but sparse customers roaming the isles, looking for the various items you might want to go shopping for in the middle of the night.

I put my items into my basket, and just as I was rounding a corner to find some curry powder, I saw the last person on earth I was expecting to see standing next to the pharmaceutical section, reading a manga.

"…_Takamine_?"

His name escaped my mouth before I even had a chance to consider the consequences for letting him know I was there. He was standing with a group of his friends; I didn't recognize any of them, so I suspected they could not be from school. They were all tall and brutish, but none of them held the same qualities as his angelic male-model face. He turned around. Then his face contorted into a mixture of horror and surprise.

"Kobayashi."

We scowled at each other briefly for a moment, and then his features lightened, becoming more pleasant. He smiled. His friends looked at me skeptically, and I broke into a cold sweat under the death glare of their deep-set eyes. They were sizing me up. Kichiro didn't notice.

"Well, well, well, what have we here? Last-minute food run?"

"Er. You could say that. What about you?"

"Same."

Or so he said, but I didn't see an ounce of food on any of them. Just the comics they were holding, and some candy. I had an underlying doubt that they were up to no good, but I knew I would never have the stomach to reprimand or tattle on a group of very dangerous-looking young men, Mew or not. Dealing with people: not my special area of commerce. 'Kaythanksbye.

"Oh. Uh."

Kichiro gestured to his unfamiliar posse.

"These're some friends from my rugby team. Guys, this is Kobayashi Sumono. She goes to my school."

"Um. Nice to meet you."

They either smiled rather dumbly or didn't react at all. These were not my kind of people, if I even have a kind of people, which I more than likely do not, now that I come to think of it. They did not care for me as a thinking human being. They would not acknowledge my presence as a breathing creature, that is, unless I did a pole dance, or something, for them. I could practically _see_ the testosterone levels -- and took it as my cue to leave. I wanted to just sort of wave at him and be like, "All right then, guess I'll see you at school", but I did not have a chance to even move a foot when Kichiro said to his friends and I brightly,

"Well, now it's a big happy party! Why don't you hang out with us?"

I eyed the wall of bodyguard flesh behind him nervously.

"Uhhh, well, I can't right now. Sorry."

"No! Stay! Won't you please?"

"Well, It's kind of late, if you know what I mean. And my father might decide to make a belt or two out of my skin. Ha ha ha."

I stepped evasively to the side. I would have to ditch the plans to make curry, but there was no way in hell that I was going to risk passing by them. I didn't know what was making me feel so frightened, suddenly, but it was like I was teetering on stilts above a pit of spikes. There was something wrong with the atmosphere. I started to round into another isle when Kichiro's fingers wrapped around my wrist. My heart thundered down past my feet.

"Don't just run off. I haven't seen you in while. Where have you been lately?"

"W-work," I answered automatically.

"Oh, I see," he said. There was a twinge of suspicion in his voice that he had not managed to cover up. "Where do you work?"

"A-at a restaurant."

"Which one?"

"The one by the museum of science… the pink one. Café Mew Mew. It's pretty far from here. You wouldn't know -- "

"No, no, I know where that is. How about I drop by tomorrow and say hi?"

I blinked confusedly. What was bringing this on?

"I don't think you'd like it very much. Really."

"It doesn't matter to me, as long as they have food."

"No, I mean it. It's not even _my_ style, and I _work_ there -- "

"That's okay, I'd just want to say hi."

I didn't like this, whatever it was, whatever reason he seemed so intent on coming to see this café. I could tell by the way his eyes were shifting around in his head, the way he grimaced ever so slightly like he didn't believe what I was saying. He could not just be coming to _say hi_. He just couldn't.

"Uh, well. That's all right, I guess. But really, it's not something you'd like."

"Don't worry."

I frowned.

"You're sure?"

"I'll see you then."

"Oh. Right."

I waved to Kichiro and his friends and walked away, baffled, to the checkout counter.

I pushed the encounter to the back of my mind on the way home. I counted footsteps to and from the train station and around the block. I watched my feet intently because I was terrified of seeing another person who could throw me back into the mix of "real life" … school life. I lost count of my strides around 350, and then started over, pushing my mind into trivial nonsense so that I could keep myself in a nice mood. Yet, when I trudged up the metal staircase to of the fire escape, hauling my paper bags, it dawned on me. When I thought of it, it made me want to be sick.

I slammed my groceries onto a plastic deck recliner and angrily kicked the washing machine, which by now had slowed to a stop. I yanked open the top and angrily started throwing dripping-wet garments onto the clothesline, sopping myself up.

He didn't believe me. The didn't think I was actually working at the café. I knew the reasons why he wanted me to hang out with his rugby friends instead of head on out into the nighttime Tokyo streets all alone. I knew why he looked at me suspiciously when I insisted that he wouldn't like the café. He thought I was avoiding him for reasons I wasn't.

Poor Kichiro. He was only trying to protect me. To be kind and concerned without directly insulting me. But he was wrong, so wrong about all of it.

I made a mental note to add Yumi Yamada to my personal hit list.

---

Ewwwww. End of chapter 14. At long last. Please, do not shoot me. (School has started. Gross.)

Krunk tired.

Krunk go beddy-by now.

Krunk attempt update soon.

-NekoBun


	15. Contortion

**Panther Blues**

**Warning! Long Introduction Incoming!**

Hello once again! I am NekoBun, and this is chapter 15.

Okay. I have never made it past a chapter 12 in anything. And this next one would make for chapter 15. So now I'm just sort of freaked out, and completely winging it. Hope you guys don't kill me for saying this… but… I've written myself into a corner and now I'm desperately trying to find my way out. Plot matter is getting scattered in my tiny brain… Sigh.

I think you guys deserve the long-winded and semi-professional explanation as to why I'm so slow updating this story:

**a) **I'm a slow writer. Really. I like to take my time, as cruel as I know that is. I'll type a paragraph, reread it, type some more, switch some sentences around, so on and so forth. Did you know it took Mark Twain about eight years to write _The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn_? Oh God. Let's hope that doesn't happen to me. Not that I should have the audacity to compare my feeble attempt at use of the English language to the most famous book in American literature. I astound even myself… DX

**b) **One word not worth mentioning: _School_. It started so early this year! Ahh. Yes, all that jazz about being too busy _is_ true. Sad, eh? Of course I'm sure you know how it is, so I don't have to give you the gory details.

**c) **I'm naturally a very lazy person. I can admit it with pride, too! Sometimes I just forget to write and I zone off into my own little world…

Once again, your reviews have nearly brought me to tears of gratitude. When I look back on my earlier chapters of this story, the ones written almost years ago, sometimes I feel like either barfing or just deleting this whole thing. Sometimes I wonder why I should even bother to continue. But you guys make it all worth while… I know that I should be writing for myself, but when you kind people come and share your words, it makes it ten thousand times easier to write. I am indebted to you all for being so kind to me! I hope I don't disappoint you. I'm shocked that you guys actually willingly read this shi -- I mean, stuff.

Ahem!

**Wesleylover213:** I will, and no matter how long it takes - even if it means another year - I know I'm going to finish it somehow! My first full story… I promised myself. Wish me luck! **Intricate Designs: **Thanks a million! I dunno about the "soon" part, but I do update! Eventually! Haha! **Xanthera: **Was it a good kiss scene? I hate writing kiss scenes. (Says the utterly virgin loser, ha ha ha.) Draw a Kirema Anima? Wow, honored. Please do! **Kaze 160: **Ahh, Kichiro… I really like to manipulate Kichiro into being my little plot puppet. And thank you so much, really and truly. **Dark Flamingo:** Are… but… you… I… S-seriously? I don't know whether to be happy or guilty! But thank you anyway! At least the story has brought out an emotional reaction, so I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your sincerity. **Skibbies: **Aw, thank you so so so much. I have no clue how to get people to read it, but I shall try! Thank you again for reading! **Mew-Sahara: **I got all warm and fuzzy inside when I read that. X3 You are too kind. Ah, yes, viva la revolution!

Every one who reads this story, whether you hate it, or love it, or whatever, hereby gets a bunch of free donuts. I don't think there's much else I can do except say "thank you" yet again. I am very lucky. ; . ;

And, as a final note and warning, certain portions of this chapter are a bit… mature. There isn't anything explicit, but it seems a little harsh for T. I won't change the rating of the entire story, though. Ha ha.

"_When a resolute young fellow steps up to the great bully, the world, and takes him boldly by the beard, he is often surprised to find it comes off in his hand, and that it was only tied on to scare away the timid adventurers."  
_- Ralph Waldo Emerson

**Chapter Fifteen!**

Sixty quietly-prejudiced oriental eyes followed me in through the door of homeroom and down the third isle until I placed my bag beside my desk and sat down slowly.

I broke into a cold sweat and was careful not to look up from the pale slippers on my feet. Okuda-sensei's voice was unusually serene, flowing clearly from his podium, as I settled myself into my chair.

"You are late, Miss Kobayashi."

Swallowing, I set two mechanical pencils upon my desk and fiddled with a third under the surface of the desk.

"Yes, Sensei."

Okuda-sensei frowned faintly. I braced myself for the reprimand. Detention, maybe, or Saturday spent in school doing worksheets and sweeping the hallways.

"Don't let it happen again."

I looked up in vague shock but brushed it away before I could let it reach my face. Nothing? Not a single punishment?

"Yes, Sensei."

Okuda-sensei turned around and picked up a piece of chalk and began to write on the board. "On with our lesson, everyone. Miss Kobayashi, get out paper for notes."

I focused dutifully on the board and did not dare to glance at my peers.

-

The bell for the end of class rang so suddenly I almost leapt out of my chair. Everyone got up began to file out the door; they had already packed their bags while waiting for the bell to ring. I realized I must have been spacing out again, thinking so hard that I wasn't thinking at all, and only drooling out the window.

I stood up quickly and gathered my books and papers together, slipping them into my book bag and zipping up. I picked up my bag and headed towards the door. I saw, with fright, that Namiko was in front of me, so I tried to avert my gaze from her curly-haired head, and tentatively kept my distance. The sooner I was away from her the better. I would like to avoid collision with her yet again. I stood impatiently, waiting for the students to clear room so that I could get through the door.

"Wait a moment, Miss Kobayashi," I heard Okuda-sensei call from his desk.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I bit my bottom lip and turned to the teacher.

So he had been saving to tell me the punishment for _after _class? That probably meant it was twice as harsh as I had been expecting. Selfish of me to presume that he would let me off easy.

"I would like to speak to you for a moment before you go to your next class."

Slowly, slowly, I saw Namiko's head turn in my direction.

"Yes, Sensei," I croaked.

Namiko's dainty features were twisted into a very malicious expression of mixed pleasure and disturbance. I knew that whatever she overheard from my conversation with Okuda-sensei, she would be telling Yumi Yamada at once. My stomach lurched.

She threw a poisonous grin at me and then casually sauntered out the door, leaving Okuda-sensei and I alone to discuss my fate.

I looked at my feet. Okuda-sensei was clearing off his desk, gathering pieces of paper and office supplies and setting them in their proper places. The process seemed to take quite a while. The room was devastatingly empty. I didn't know what my penalty for excessive tardiness, yet again, was going to turn to be. Okuda-sensei had been anything near lenient in the past.

"Miss Kobayashi," he said suddenly, and I jumped in surprise again. "Please take a seat."

_Take a seat_. This was going to be much, much worse than I had imagined.

"Yes, sir."

I found myself cringing into the desk situated across from his own. He did not sit. He continued to stow things away and brush the dust off the side of his small file cabinet. He looked uneasy. It was very quiet, with the exception of his idle alterations in the classroom organization. He paced to the right a little, and then back to the left. Then he turned to face the chalk board for a moment and seemed to stay there and think. When he turned around, he appeared to be dually uneasy. Then he clasped his hands together behind his back.

"Sir," I said warily, "I apologize for my conduct. I have been late to class an inexcusable number of times. I'll try and improve it."

"What?"

"I know I've been tardy too many times, sensei. I apologize."

He blinked at me, unsure.

"What… oh. Yes. Yes. That must be changed, Kobayashi, must be ended."

Then he unclasped his hands, wrung his knuckles, but only to shove them into his jacket pockets and start pacing again. My eyes followed his nervous, darting movements. I'd never seen him pace before. He looked very studious… in a very anxious way.

Perhaps if I assisted him, he would go ahead and get my death sentence out of the way, so that he did not have to spend all this time stalling and attempting to make it happen.

"Erm, Okuda-sensei, I'm willing to make up for it, and I understand that --"

"Kobayashi," he interrupted pointedly, "I've never really been the sort of person who participates in the interconnected web of society."

"Uh. Pardon?"

"As a teacher, I do not take pride in meddling in the trivial teenage affairs of my pupils."

He wagged a finger at me dutifully and then gestured to his surroundings. There was a flash of embarrassed exasperation in his voice and face.

"And most especially, not that of first-year high school students."

"Sir?" I asked, blinking confusedly at his sudden proclamation.

"I understand that girls your age can become very much carried away with this sort of thing. I know you girls can be quite… er, aggressive. A lot of the time, rumors can come from the most obscure, insignificant causes… and in a school like this they catch on like wildfire and explode. No matter how outrageous, there is always someone who will believe… or want others to believe."

He paused, took off his eyeglasses to wipe them on his shirt collar.

"That's the way young people are, mind you. That's the way they will always be. Turning on one another to gain the higher ground."

"I'm sorry, sensei, I don' think I really get what you're -- "

Okuda-sensei sat, heavily and abruptly, into the desk that was next to the one I was sitting in. He looked at me, something desperate nagging behind his eyes. Something that he was not willing to discuss, I could see. For a split second, I felt a stab of awkward pity for my most-loathed professor.

"Kobayashi, you must listen to me for a moment. I'm sorry to say that… that something has come to my attention. Something that has been spoken about by many of your peers."

"I'm… what sort of…?"

"It has come to my attention that there is something rather shocking concerning your… your _nature_."

Needles of paranoia pierced my heart. He knew.

He _knew_.

But how? _How_ did he know? More importantly, how was this something that had been spoken about popularly among my peers? Had they recognized my face on the late-night news broadcast? I stammered without control over my jawbone.

"S-sir, I can assure you that -- "

"Miss Kobayashi, I realize this is something that you most certainly was not expecting to have to deal with, especially coming from your homeroom teacher. But, it is my duty to ensure that you are living responsibly. This does not apply to your misconduct in my classroom, miss. It extends much farther than that.

"I also realize that all of this could be a ruse created by a classmate, miss, but I'm also afraid that there is simply too much evidence supporting it. I would have dismissed the possibility of this kind of nature at once, if I had not… slightly… investigated the matter."

"Investigated?" I repeated, horrified. "And what have you investigated?"

"Well, there are several things, which I am sure you are as aware of as I am."

I thought I might choke. I felt my fingertips flutter to my throat as I tried desperately to massage the knot in my windpipe. What could I do? What could I say? _He knew_. Had I been so careless? All of my peers talking about it, without my even knowing… Ryou would never look at me again…

"Please don't deny it. I am aware of your financial situation - and don't take that as an insult, because I understand how it is myself. But sneaking out at night? Oversleeping every morning because of it? You were seen kissing a man in the park at about one in the morning last night. Miss, you're only a young girl. Don't you have shame?"

_How_? How did we know all these things? Did he _himself_ have any shame whatsoever?

"What does _that_ have to do with anything?" I asked. "What do _you_ have to do with that?"

"Don't deny it! It has a world do with it."

I coiled my fingers around my throat and waited for my breathing to stop.

"Sensei," I gagged, "Why are you talking to me about this? What can you possibly do about it?"

He gave me a startlingly passionate look and said, heat evident in his breaking voice, "I'm doing this because I… I was going to beg you to stop what you are doing."

"Beg me? To _stop_?" I gasped, "How can you even - ? I can't!"

"Miss Kobayashi, you _have_ to! Before it's too late for you! You're still so young, and you can do so many things with your life. You can't just throw it all away! I can't control your life, or your choices. But I'm telling you that this is not the right thing to be doing."

"It's the _only_ thing I can be doing! What else do you expect me to DO?"

"Thousands of things!" Okuda-sensei cried out shrilly. Disgust traced his features. "I had faith in you, Kobayashi! I trusted you were not so hopeless! Surely you're not _that _narrow-minded!"

"_How dare you_?" My voice penetrated even my own comfort. "How _dare_ you propose that I _not_ do this? People are depending on me! _Lives_ are depending on me!"

Sadness, ancient sadness belonging to someone much older and wiser then my disheveled sensei, hung on his shoulders and his eyes killed me. I wanted to scream and cry. I jumped out of my seat. He did, too.

"Sumono Kobayashi," he said, "I am so sorry for you. Truly. I know your father is… well. I have met your father, and I have seen your home. I know things are not bright for you at this time. But if you needed the money, out of all things, why did you choose -- "

"_Money_! _MONEY_!"

" -- _Why did you _-- "

"THAT IS THE _MOST_ -- "

"-- _choose to gain profit OFF YOUR BODY_?"

The shouting, which had come in massive and crashing waves, suddenly stilled to an ear-splitting silence, and I had to double-take at his distraught face to then fully understand what he was saying.

All of them.

"My _what_?"

"Your body, Kobayashi. Your _body_. You can't… you can't just go and do that to yourself… it's shameful… you'll destroy everything…"

Yes. All of them.

I swallowed hard.

"Okuda-sensei," I said as evenly as I could bare to, "I… am not… a prostitute."

He looked at me incredulously. "I certainly think that can't be true, judging by your former outburst. If you're not _that_, what is it that would have fueled such a -- "

"Okuda-sensei," I repeated, "I am not a prostitute."

"Really! Then what are you, pray tell? Because I haven't come up with a conclusion that is terribly convincing, myself, and I have even become so desperate concerning the matter that I'd resorted to eavesdropping on schoolgirls gossiping to each other -- "

"You shouldn't ever believe gossip," I almost snarled. "Ever."

His face fell.

"Can I believe _you_?"

"I'd bet my life on it."

"And there is nothing else that seems to be consuming your time every hour of the evening? Nothing at all you would like to tell me?"

I picked up my school bag and straightened myself. I told him,

"Thank you, sensei. I know you're only trying to do what's best for me. …If I were in your situation I would more than likely have thought the same thing that you did."

He sadly watched me walk across the room.

"If there's anything you need, I can help, you know. I can try. I _am_ your teacher."

I stopped at the doorframe. Then I thought for a moment. I don't know what made me say it, but I felt like I should:

"Sir, at this point, the only thing I can say is that… it is very important to watch the eleven o'clock news."

Then I turned and shut the door behind me.

-

I walked to the very edge of campus and sat on the curb to eat my lunch.

All of them. They all thought it. They all thought I was… _that_. Yumi saw me that one night alone in on the park bench, told Namiko, who told every one else, and eventually word got around to Kichiro. And my poor sensei, who was only doing his job. I would make it up to him. I made a promise to myself, with my newfound wave of respect towards Okuda.

And Kichiro… Kichiro now was subtly trying to keep me safe, trying to keep me under his watch so that I didn't do anything insane. Which, as I had realized the night before, explained the very strange conversation in the grocery store, and his insistence on seeing the place where I work…

All making sure I wasn't harming myself. Making sure that the rumors weren't true.

_These people_, I thought vaguely, although the thought did not properly occur to me at that time, _care about me._

-

The final hour of school slipped past and the bell rang for the conclusion of last period. I sat down on the bench in the shoe locker room, slowly peeling my school slippers off my feet, and cramming a pair of dirty bucks onto my feet. (NekoBun: Dirty bucks are a type of shoe, usually worn by men, but a few rare manufacturers have made a women's style. They are light tan suede with bright brick-colored rubber soles. They're easily worn in and very flexible. I had to wear them as a part of my old school uniform [men's, nonetheless, and I'll tell you, those shoes are insanely comfortable! Beside that, they have a distinctively grungy look when worn by a girl, thus making Sumono look sort messy and shabby, at least compared to the more popular leather penny loafers worn by Japanese school girls.) I laced them impatiently, my mind elsewhere.

A heard scuffling not too far away, and looked up. My heart stopped beating for a moment.

It was Yumi and Rabid Poodle Girl.

I knew they weren't going to give up their Kichiro Cause until they saw me hanged at sunrise. Yumi wouldn't stop stabbing me in the gut until she'd seduced him to a pulp, ruined his life, ruined her own life, slept with him, and pissed off everyone within a five-foot radius; but not necessarily in that order.

Yumi sat down next to me before I had a chance to exhale. She flipped her long hair around and it nearly smacked Poodle Girl in the face. The air smelled like a mixture of cherries and fruity shampoo. Why, oh why, did evil people have to smell so good all the time?

Her blankly hostile, curled smile claimed her face and she patted my arm with a perfectly manicured hand.

"Well, I guess even Shuichi Okuda can't resist jail bait these days, huh?"

I had nothing to say. I could only stare at her.

"I mean, really, Sumono-chan," said Poodle Girl, "You are quite the busy bee. What a work ethic you must have. So much ambition… how many men is this? Including the one from last night?"

Yumi slipped an arm around Poodle Girl's waist and cocked her head at me.

"You don't have an answer, Sumono-chan? Are you thinking of something clever to say to us? Are you going to be ashamed and get angry again?"

I said nothing.

"So what is it exactly that men find in you to be so… oh, _you know_. Is it your teeth? Or maybe your hair. I'm not sure. They're both so… _dirty_…"

Poodle Girl seemed to delight in this and gave me her rabid poodle smile, lips pulled taught over gleaming, pointed canines. She clasped her hands together and made a crude sex gesture with her fingers and then stuck her tongue out, peering out at me through thin, lifeless eyes.

"So where do they take you to do it? I'm so _curious_," she said. "I hear bathroom stalls are really popular!"

"That would make it so much easier for public access, right? How clever, my dear. It doesn't have to be restricted to just one, as long as they pay the toll, am I correct?"

"Oh! But you're so skinny! I'll bet you'd be crushed under any added weight!"

"Extra fee for the fat ones!"

They snickered. My fingernails bore down into my knees.

"That's really so unfortunate for you… I'll bet it slows down your productivity…"

"Poor Okuda! You know, teachers don't get paid a lot nowadays! It's unfair of you to be so demanding, don't you see? You should have treated him for free -- "

"So unfortunate that your friends had to hear about this! I mean, imagine what they must think!"

"If I had known you before this, Sumono-chan, I wouldn't like you at all now!"

Namiko… and Kichiro… who else? Who else had to be thrown into this madness? The two kept talking. They kept at it. I didn't say a word. I waited for the end, which I knew would come once they become bored with me.

And finally Yumi crossed the line.

"Oh! But you wouldn't charge your father, would you? Even despite the extra weight fee! That wouldn't make much sense would it? I guess your mother wouldn't mind, would she? Your mother probably had added fees, too -- "

I stood up, raised my hand, and slapped Yumi very firmly and evenly across the cheek. She and Poodle Girl silenced immediately and looked at me.

"Yamada," I said, "You can screw up your priorities. You can focus your short life around one insignificant _boy _and some random trash _girl_ who you have falsely accused of being something she is not. You can insult me all you want, you can turn my friends against me and rob me of my dignity. But you can't, ever, under any circumstances, insult my parents. Do you hear me?"

She screwed up her face, an unreadable expression. I wrapped my fingers gradually around her shirt collar and tugged.

"I said, _Do you hear me?_"

"Jesus, all right. Chill out. Let go of my damn shirt."

"Do not ever talk about my parents."

Poodle Girl launched herself up and grabbed my arms. "Just let go of her, you crazy bitch -- "

I relinquished my hold and picked up my bags. Suddenly, now that she was free and confident again, Yumi started to snicker.

"Just what do you think you're gonna do about it? Beat us up?"

I started to walk away and Yumi jumped to her feet, shouting, "Grow up, little girl! It's time for you to learn the hard way! Stop running, coward _whore_!"

I didn't turn around until I realized that the poodle was directly behind me. She grabbed my wrists and forced them together behind my back. Yumi approached slowly as she pulled off a ring that had been resting on a finger of her right hand.

"Little girl, you hit me," she said. "And I think I'll educate you about how to do that _properly_."

-

"Sumono, Sumono, what's wrong?"

Ichigo saw me staggering into the entrance of the café with tears running sloppily all down my face. She dropped her broom and ran up to me.

"What is it? What happened?" she asked frantically, pulling out a pink handkerchief. "Are you okay?"

"I'm…"

"You look terrible! And you're all… _bloody_!"

"I...Where?"

Ichigo tentatively put a finger just beside the left corner of my mouth, which suddenly seared in swollen protest. I gasped and she withdrew her hand. The tip of her finger was red.

"What happened?" She asked again.

"Unfortunate encounter."

"A Kirema…?"

"No. Although sometimes I wish that were the case. Then it would be _okay_ to kill her."

I started to pull off my jacket and totter to the coat rack. Ichigo snatched my jacket out of my hands and hurried to hang it up for me.

"Her? It's a her? Who?"

I grudgingly wiped the tears from my eyes and tried not to look at her. Ichigo peered at me.

"Did you… You got in a fight, Sumono."

It wasn't a question. Her tone was sad and disapproving. I hated to have Ichigo upset with me.

But I couldn't lie to her, either.

"Yes."

"Why? What was it about?"

"It's a long story."

"I don't care. You know I like long stories."

She pulled up a seat at an empty two-person table and pointed demandingly at the other chair. I sat down cautiously.

"Well. There's this girl at my school… very beautiful girl. She's the spawn of the underworld, you see. She wants to kill me."

"Why does she want to do that?"

"Well, um, at school, there's also… um, there's this -- "

"-- Guy," Ichigo finished for me. Her face looked curiously tight.

"Of course," I sighed. "Every girl who has seen him will, undoubtedly, want to get into his pants."

Ichigo looked at me inquiringly and I immediately raised my hands in defense.

"_Except_ me. I would rather not. Seriously."

She shrugged. I picked up a napkin and began blotting out the blood on the corner of my mouth as I spoke.

"The girl wants to kill me because the guy… _Kichiro_ and I are friends. Sort of. Not exactly. We just talk to each other, is all. And, apparently, that is a sin."

"…Because?"

"Because I'm poor and ugly and half the world thinks I'm a … I'm a…"

"A what?"

"Well, never mind. It's not important. Because I don't have the _social _right to talk to him. It causes unrest. The other girl is afraid Kichiro will take an interest in me - which is ridiculous."

"So… you and this other girl…"

"Yumi."

"You and Yumi got in a fight over this?" Ichigo said. She looked mildly disgusted and she shook her head around. "Sumono, that's not good. That's not worth fighting about."

"It goes deeper than Kichiro. Much deeper. But I would rather not give details."

Ichigo handed me another napkin - my own was soiled - and then she sighed with a bitterness that wasn't quite compatible with her cheery exterior.

"Sumono…"

"I know I shouldn't fight," I said, wanting her to understand, "but it's so hard -- sometimes there's this innate spark of fury that catches on and I can't gain control over it, even when I'm trying -- and was I supposed to just kneel there and let her bash me in while her little minion held my hands behind my back? I couldn't just let her do that and get away with it -- "

"What did you do to _her_?"

"I… it…"

"What did you do?"

I didn't answer. The shame that was building in me was twisting my stomach into knots. Ichigo rose from her chair and crossed her arms.

"Sumono," she said sternly, "No more petty fighting with school girls. I know you're better than that. You are a Mew Mew, for God's sake. And Mew Mews are peaceful creatures. We stand to protect others and render justice, and that is all."

I could not help but realize the sheer authority in her words. Despite the fact that I was older, taller, and conceivably more aggressive… I was in no position to question her. Ichigo was, undoubtedly, the leader. I had to respect it.

"Yes... You're right."

She smiled with grace and went to pick up her broom.

"Why don't you go get cleaned up, and we can start work?"

"Right. And… Ichigo, I forgot to tell you…"

"Yeah?"

"Kichiro… he said he's going to visit the café. I tried to tell him not to, but he said he only wants to say hi, so he shouldn't take long. I can make sure he's in and out within a -- "

"It's fine," Ichigo said, suddenly impish. "Just make sure Ryou doesn't see too much of him."

"H-huh?"

"Oh, you know what I mean."

She winked at me and turned to guide a pile of dust to the corner with her broom.

-

I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror and suddenly felt my resolve drop further.

I looked like a thug. My eyes were puffy and red, bleary from crying. A faint bruise was forming, almost in the same place my older one, from before, had been. The left side of my face, particularly around the corner of my mouth, was irritated and raw from being repeatedly stricken, and my lip had busted open to let out a trickle of blood down my chin.

I suddenly had a vision of myself being seventy years old with criss-crossing battle scars engraved onto my wasted face. A permanent and constant reminder of who I really was, and what I wasn't allowed to expunge from my memories. Then I shuddered, and shook the thought from my head. Ichigo was right, much too right. This could not continue.

After washing my face and changing into my uniform, I exited the bathroom and trudged across the tiled floor to do my job.

Around thirty minutes passed, and before long I was low in spirits. I couldn't concentrate. My knees shook randomly, my mind wandered, and I slouched. I found myself unable to mold my mouth into a smile for the customers, no matter how hard I tried. I forgot orders. My hands trembled when I handled dishes and platters.

In one of my pockets of spare time, I drew up a chair in a sideroom next to the kitchen and sat, burying my face in my hands and closing my eyes.

My smooshed my eyeballs with the heels of my palms and watched the colors swirl around inside my eyelids. Purple, green, yellow, orange, red… Intersecting lines and blots of self-inflicted rainbow… My eye sockets ached in protest but I didn't find the motivation to stop applying weight to my eyes. Within a minute I fell into a dreamlike state much like a drug trip, sitting there inside myself and watching my own personal delusion wax and wane like a jumble of neon patterns.

Something pointy drove itself into my head and I snapped quickly out of my stupor. Eyes opened, my vision gradually tunneled out of the dancing configurations. The eye sockets pulsed dully. Before me was the monkey, twirling a china plate on her index finger.

"Why are you messing around with your eyes?" She inquired brightly.

"Oh. Hello Pudding."

"Why? Does it feel good or something?"

"Not really."

"Then why are you doing it?"

"Have you ever tried it?"

"No," she said. She took her free hand and started prodding her own eye. Then she yelped and nearly dropped her dish. "That hurts!" she cried indignantly at me. "Why the heck would you do a dumb thing like that?"

"You're not doing it right," I sighed. "When you press your eyes with your palms, weird colors appear. They're fun to look at."

"Oh." She frowned at me, obviously frustrated. "Why are you skulking over here like it's the end of the world? Don't you have stuff to do?"

"I don't know," I grumbled. Then I crossed my arms over my chest and looked away.

"You," said Pudding, while driving her free index finger into my forehead, "Need to stop being such an Emo McAngstypants."

(NekoBun: That is not my phrase. See the end of the chapter for details.)

"Wh… what?"

"Get back to work!" Pudding screeched at me passionately, and hurled her dish into the air. I cried out, watching it traverse past the ceiling, and then dove out of my chair and snagged it before it hit the tiles.

Pudding watched me trembling there on the floor with the china just barely cradled on my outstretched fingertips. I stood up slowly. Her lips were pursed.

"See?" she said haughtily. "You're functioning perfectly _fine_. There is nothing to be sad about. You're just being stoooopid. Stupid! Sumono! Get out of your head! _Out of your head_!"

She grabbed my shoulders and shook me around vigorously, screaming, "Get out! Get out!"

"Pudding -- what are you -- "

"Miss Sumono, you've been moping for far too long! Life is short! You won't be young and beautiful forever! Don't waste it all away!"

"Pudding, I'm _not _wasting -- "

"OUT!"

And with that, she yanked the plate out of my hands and gave me a slap on the rear. I hurried away, backside smarting with finality, and mind selfishly unaware of how much I would thank her for it in the future.

-

I waited tables at the speed of light. Anxiety.

I was sweating bullets. I couldn't stop looking out the window. He was going to come… sooner or later, he was going to show up. He was going to ask me questions. He was going to see what Yumi had "taught" me. And, worst of it all, he was going to see me adorned in my frilly café uniform. It just couldn't be happening this way.

But it was. It really was.

A strange part of me, a strange faction of Sumono, was being born. It was beginning to care what Kichiro -- what _everyone_ -- thought. What they saw when they looked at me, how they thought of me, what they felt when I passed… or if they felt anything at all. Insecure Sumono was surfacing, an ugly and undesirable beast. And Insecure Sumono really, really did not want Kichiro to witness the powder-puff glory of Café Mew Mew… not while my body was in the building, too.

Pudding, my new anti-depression probation officer, saw me taking fearful glances out the windows. She stepped up to my side and poked me in the ribs.

"What's your problem, dope?"

"There's somebody coming today, and I don't want him to come."

"Why?"

"He's made my life a living hell."

"How?"

"He just has. I don't feel like regaling, not the entire story."

The suspicion was thinly disguised on her cherubic face. She placed a thoughtful finger on her chin. "Tell me more, Sumono-chan. About this person."

"Well, for one thing," I said, "He's gonna get a kick out of this place. And the uniforms."

"Does he like uniforms?"

Biting back a harsh comment which would more than likely scald Pudding's innocent ears, I said, "Yes. I suspect he does." Then I added, "Will do you me a favor, Pudding?"

"Sure!"

"Will you stay very far away from him, and let me take care of him?"

"Well… I _guess _so. But don't Let Ryou know."

Why did everyone keep saying that?

"Uh. I won't."

"Good luck, Sumono-chan!"

"Thanks, Pudding."

She skipped away and I sighed again, wondering about Ryou, feeling my cheeks go pink even while just thinking. Then I turned away from the window, and looked straight into two glimmering chocolate pies.

"Nice dress," Kichiro said, utterly deadpan.

Normal Sumono fought a gagging reflex; Insecure Sumono felt weirdly relieved, empowered.

"Thanks," I managed hoarsely.

"This is where you work."

It wasn't a question.

"Yeah. This is where I work."

-

The rest of if was surprisingly easy. I seated Kichiro and got him some tea and a lemon square.

"I want to ask you what happened to your face," he began.

"Oh."

"But the truth is, I think I can guess."

"You… you can?"

I felt the color slowly trickling out of my face, and for a second I knew that he had been mislead, that all of my darkest nightmares were true, that now, even he, possibly the last "friend" I had at school, believed that I was something I was not. And he was going to reprimand me for it. He was going to be sure that I got my proper punishment.

"I think it's really wrong, what happens to you, Kobayashi."

"T-Takamine -- "

"Just let me finish, please."

"B-But -- "

"I think things need to change."

"It's not…"

"Or else someday you're really going to get _seriously _hurt."

"_It's not true_!" I nearly exclaimed, and for a very stiff moment the café went still, and customers looked at us nervously.

"Yes it is," Kichiro said under his breath. "It's true."

"Not you," I spluttered, the tears from earlier coming back to life in my eyes. "Not you, too."

"I'm sorry. I wish I knew what to do."

"You could believe me for once, that's what you could do!"

"What do you mean?"

"What do _I_ mean? Honestly, Kichiro! _Use_ your head! Those girls -- they're liars, bloody liars. They don't know what they're talking about, they take all this shit and dress it up like it's some kind of _evidence_, like it's going to _prove_ I'm a street whore -- I won't let them steal everything away from me, Kichiro, not _everything_! You can't believe them, you just can't!"

He blinked at me. Trying to compute.

"Who says I believe them?"

By that point I was so confused that I had to clutch my spinning head in my hands. Kichiro? Getting a clue? No way! Was it Christmas already? What was he saying? What was he here for?

"…What?"

"I said, who says I _believe_ them? Of course I don't believe them."

"Then… then… what are you saying?"

"Kobayashi," he began. Suddenly he looked like his old self, uncomfortable and egotistical, scratching his neck awkwardly before saying what he needed to say. "I came here to apologize."

"A… apol… apolo…"

"I know you're getting a lot of bullshit at school and it's all my fault. I know you hate me and you're trying to avoid me at all costs. So I'm really sorry."

"Takamine," I choked. "You don't really think… it's not… I thought you…"

"I'm sorry."

"Quit saying that! You've got nothing to apologize for! What the _hell_, Takamine? What in frick's sake?"

"She annihilated you… and I should have been there..."

"Wait, you mean you came here to say sorry to me because of Yumi?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, _look_ at your face. She did that because of me."

"I know, but… you're… _apologizing_."

"Yeah, I think we've established that."

"Okay, look," I said dutifully. "I forgive you and everything. The whole deal. Is that good?"

"Yes."

"And… you don't believe what they keep telling people?"

"Nope."

"You seriously don't think I'm a prostitute?"

"Well, I didn't until I saw you in that dress."

I went furiously red, he laughed at me, and suddenly I weighed fifty pounds less. I had had my friend all along.

He stayed longer. The other Mews came around to say hello. Ichigo gave me a hopeful little smile when she saw that I was feeling considerably better, as did Lettuce, who was ever-perceptive.

Mint sidled up next to me and started whispering frantically in my ear, her voice high-pitched and rushing with giggles.

"Who _is_ that guy?"

"He's from my school. His name is Takamine Kichiro."

"Oh my God, he is so cute! Can I talk to him? Can I go introduce myself?"

I squinted at her, suppressing laughter. What did she need my permission for?

"Uh, sure. Go knock yourself out."

She squealed and ran off to his table. I observed as she bowed formally and produced a flirty charm which I personally had never witnessed associated with the blunt, sarcastic Mint. This amused me for a few minutes, but I after a while I decided, rather spontaneously, that it was time for me to venture into the back room. Suddenly café business didn't make a difference one way or the other, so long as I was able to find what I was looking for…

Cautiously, executing panther-like footsteps as I proceeded through the intimidating metal doorways until I had successfully made my way through the labyrinth.

The genius, my genius, was bent over a microscope, his back to me. I watched as he adjusted the slide and carefully tuned the focus. His was in his trademark slackened posture, his shirt casually unbuttoned, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was muttering to himself, halfway irritable and halfway intrigued. Every now and then he would impatiently swat his hair away from his eyes and lean closer to the eyepiece.

I went and stood close to his shoulder, unable to contain my curiosity.

"Um, how is it -- "

"HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!" Ryou shrieked and flinched wildly.

"What?" I cried. "What is it?"

He spun around, veins pulsating.

"How in the HELL do you come in here so quietly and just SNEAK UP on me like that? Are you _trying _to kill me?"

"U-uh, I d-didn't…"

"God damn those panther genes! You're practically silent!"

"I'm s-sorry…"

"I didn't even -- even -- oh my God."

"What?"

"Sumono, what happened to you?"

He touched my face. His coarse hands were heartbreakingly gentle.

"Sumono, your face… it's…"

"I know."

"How did…?"

"I got into a fight."

"And a bad one. It looks like you've been hit in the same place twenty times."

"Maybe."

There was no judgment. No holier-than-thou speech about how violence was wrong and bad and pointless. No finger-shaking and pitying. The Aryan's eyes, the color of Arctic water, melted into sorrowfulness. He bent forward and let his soft mouth barely skim the surface of my lips, sending a fresh peal of quivering ice shooting up my spine.

"I'm so sorry, Sumono. If we can make it through these first few struggles…"

"It's fine," I said, and that time I meant it. I smiled. "I'm okay, really. I've learned my lesson."

"Your lesson?"

"Yes." I stood on my tiptoes and peered over his shoulder. "What are you doing?"

To my surprise, he ignored my question.

"How is your father doing?"

I turned around. The sad look on his face knocked the wind out of me.

"Oh, Shirogane… it's not him. My father didn't do this. This was me, being stupid, making some girls at school angry. High school girls can be mean in more than one way. But it'll be okay."

"Okay? How is that _okay_? They hit you! How did you let them get away with that? That _bruise_…How did you let them… "

"I hit her first. I started it."

"How many times?"

"Once."

"And she did _that_ to you? You didn't fight back? What the fu -- "

"I was tired of fighting back. I gave up early and let them do what they wanted."

"And then they did that."

"Yes. So I've learned my lesson."

"What's that?"

"Never give up early."

Then I grinned at him, and held my hand up for a high-five.

---

End of chapter 15! Have you thrown up yet? Good lord, I don't think I've ever crammed so much rampant drama into one insignificant chapter. It takes work! Phew!

About "Emo McAngstypants":

I could not help but to encounter, while surfing Google in a half-baked attempt to get onto Fan Fiction while it was down, a certain LiveJournal. It hadn't been edited since 2006. I read a little, and saw that it was dedicated to picking out bad, unoriginal and cliché Tokyo Mew Mew fan fiction. The journal had entitled itself as, "Tokyo Mew Mew Sues" (which probably constitutes the term "Mary Sue", meaning bland and commonplace). And, after a couple minutes of sifting through entries… I was honored enough to discover that my very own story was listed there! I read what the journal-poster had to say about Panther Blues, and why they didn't like it. The rating system of the journal is pretty amusing, and fun to read. (Although, I think I have reserved the right to say, as the victim, that it is slightly unfair to judge a story straight out from the first chapter. I mean, I sucked at writing around that time. And a few years from now, I'll look back on this section of the story I'll grimace and think, "Oh my God, I _really_ sucked at writing back then." And the saga will continue until I die).

Thankfully, on a rating of badness, it only received "One Kirema Anima", which granted a migraine (whereas Four Kirema Anima grants a heart attack). Here's what the person has to say:  
_"It's written very well to tell the truth. But this Sue is such an Emo McAngstypants (sigh)"_

…Thus sending me into a glorious and epic laughing fit. Thank you, "Tokyo Mew Mew Sue", you have made my day! I shall only say that there is nothing as refreshing as some cruelly honest feedback. Why won't people do this to my face?! XD

_(I don't own Google, Fan Fiction, Tokyo Mew Mew Sues or any of the aforementioned criteria, except for Panther Blues.)  
- _NekoBun


End file.
